Turn of the 8th Day
by Armagnac
Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, finding a way to meet Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairings; spoilers through end of series.
1. First Turn

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: The slightest variation in choices can make all the difference. L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Finding even part of it could be a turning point . . . Slight AU; rated T to be safe. NOTE: there will be a little bit of Namikawa/Mido eventually, so you've been warned. ^_^ Spoilers through the end of the series.

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**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 1: First Turn

Intro

_Seven days. Seven days since "Kira" was caught. Seven days since Higuchi died right in front of us. Though there are two Kiras, I sense but one will. The steps I take now are necessary, even if they become my last. This will be the day upon which everything will turn. The 8__th__ day. And I will use these deeds as a lever on a fulcrum._

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Needle Begging Thread

Opening the envelope, he removed the single sheet of paper with thumb and forefinger and looked deliberately around the room. No change. He slipped the paper back into the envelope and hid it away as he turned and faced the monitors again. And there it was. He only caught a glimpse of it as it passed into a wall, but there was no mistaking it. Another shinigami.

Only rarely did L enter Watari's observation room, but it had become a necessity of late. The Task Force members were more of a burden than a help since catching Higuchi, and he needed the occasional thing done without even their inexpert eyes observing him. Things like having Wedy secretly install cameras in Misa's apartment with a secure feed directly to Watari's station and one other hidden for L's use only. Things like having Wedy search for and steal a blank piece of paper that had been hidden in that apartment for no outwardly discernable reason. L knew Wedy liked the thrill of breaking in and stealing things, though this had been no real challenge for her. He also knew that she always wore gloves, since she did not leave fingerprints behind. Watari was the only one who knew why L wanted the paper and what he intended to do with it.

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Into the Eye

The zipline was set up by that evening. L had allowed Wedy to think it was for Aiber's use. Smirking a bit at how little he resembled Aiber as he pulled on a blond wig, L reflected that he might have been better off using Aiber for this after all. He wanted as few people involved as possible, however, so he was excluding him. For now. He also wanted some first-hand involvement, considering the new information's potential impact on the case. L put on the heavy coat and the special gloves, forcing himself to stand fully upright before exiting the room, cameras be damned, and heading for the roof.

Wind buffeted him as he walked out onto the rooftop, pushing him in several directions at once like the ghosts of recalcitrant children, all with separate keening demands. He swayed there, breathing crisp night air, allowing himself to forget for a moment why he was there, what he was taking on. Shaking himself, L walked toward the edge. He had never done this before, and though he understood the basic principles and had anticipated the wind, he had not expected to be intimidated. L was not afraid of heights, nor did he back down from a challenge, but the thin line descending into the night . . . He knew it would be strong enough to hold him, and he trusted Wedy's skills in setting it up, but knowing something was not the same as feeling something. _Useless distractions_, he thought, flexing his gloved hands before crouching to grip the metal sliding mechanism. The line felt secure when he pulled on it. L took a deep breath as his dark eyes probed the gloom and jumped feet first into darkness.

He had intended to slow himself down by lowering his legs and spreading them out to create more wind resistance, but the wall came up on him more quickly than he'd expected. It had been like flying, or falling, if at an incline. Luckily, he bent his knees in time to cushion his landing – dealing with a broken ankle or worse would have been less than convenient.

As planned, L disconnected the bottom end of the zipline where it was attached to the penthouse wall, removing the sliding device so that it wouldn't bash against his own building after he let go. He was grateful that there had been a penthouse apartment on a neighboring building, as scrambling to get on top of another building while the wind pulled at him was unappealing. L fingered the penthouse key in his pocket, which Watari had just that day obtained by subletting the apartment for a week under a pseudonym. Wedy had already checked for cameras and wiretaps in and out of the penthouse, so L shuffled unconcernedly to the door, opening it and entering the luxurious yet somehow generic space.

Clear of the windows, L removed the wig, scratching his head as he tossed it near the duffel bag he was approaching. He dropped the coat and sliding device and squatted on the floor, pulling the bag out from under a table and unzipping it, grimacing slightly at the clothes he would be wearing. Blending would be important, so he would have to sacrifice some comfort. He disrobed, crouching in a strange foyer, swapping one disguise for another. L sighed as he faced having to wear yet another pair of uncomfortable shoes, steeling himself for the long walk before dawn.

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Interruption

"OK Ryuk, I'm taking my shower now, so you better not look!"

The shinigami rolled his bulging eyes. "Jeez, for the millionth time, I'm not gonna look!" He shook his massive head and ate the last of his apple. "It's not like I could do anything about it anyway . . ." he mumbled through apple bits.

"What?"

"Nothing! Just take your stupid shower so we can _do_ something today – I'm so _bored_." Ryuk slumped back on Misa's pink fluffy bed, looking incongruous with her myriad stuffed animals, even the scarred ones with black hair. A sliver of sun managed to sneak its way past surrounding buildings and pierced Misa's window. Ryuk followed the finger of light upward with his eyes and saw something unexpected. A tiny glint, a flicker – a reflection?

Ryuk leapt up and poked his head into the ceiling, phasing right through it, where he beheld a camera. His cackle might have been audible to Misa if he had not been face-deep in drywall and insulation. "That L must be up to his old tricks! I wonder if I should tell her . . ." Ryuk mulled it over. "It could be more interesting if I don't . . . Eh, I'll wait and see."

Popping his head back out of the ceiling and plopping back down on the bed, Ryuk made himself comfortable again. He looked lazily around the room for a few moments, wondering if there were any more cameras. He was just deciding to head to the kitchen for another apple when he heard a knock at the door. Curious, he moved toward the front room, undecided as to whether to yell for Misa, if only for the amusement of interrupting her shower.

A note was abruptly thrust under the door as Ryuk watched. He peered closely at it and read "Shinigami. We must speak. Join me in the hallway."

"What the? You gotta be kidding me." Ryuk made a grab for the note and found it yanked away before he could touch it. Grumbling, he peeked through the peephole and saw a rather nondescript businessman wearing a dark suit and sunglasses, hair slicked back under his hat. He was taking a step back as he flipped his cellphone closed, mouth a thin line, as though he expected someone to step toward him. He was shoving the note into his pants pocket. Ryuk frowned, then grinned. "This could be interesting, or not. Let's see how he likes this!"

Ryuk stuck just his head through the door, grinning toothily, looking for all the world like a huge grotesque door knocker or a forgotten Halloween decoration, and he began laughing maniacally.

The businessman looked unimpressed. "I don't have time for games. Follow me if you want to know more, shinigami." He turned on his heel and walked stiffly away from Ryuk.

"Aw, c'mon! Don't be such a spoilsport, sheesh!" Ryuk thought the man's voice sounded oddly familiar, but couldn't quite place it. The hat and sunglasses together were enough to prevent him from seeing the man's name and lifespan, so he clearly knew something about shinigami. The man entered the elevator down the hall, almost as though it had been waiting for him. As Ryuk was about to pull back into Misa's apartment, he saw a single hand extend from the elevator – holding an apple. And then it was yanked back and the elevator doors closed.

Shaking his head, Ryuk turned and surveyed the kitchen. _I have apples here!_, he thought. _One apple from some random guy isn't gonna get me to leave!_ And yet, the fact that the stranger had known enough to tempt him with an apple was interesting to him. Who, other than Light and Misa, knew he liked those? Considering his increasing boredom, Ryuk's decision became easy.

Extending his wings, Ryuk phased and flew straight through the outer wall, swooping into the air like a vulture on holiday. He looked down in time to see the man exit the front of the building. He dove, intending to buzz him from above, but the man crisply turned the corner, evading Ryuk while seemingly unaware of his presence. The man turned another corner and walked toward a tiny square with a fountain nestled at the back of Misa's building. Sitting down on a bench, he looked like any other businessman who might be waiting for a ride to work, getting a few calls in or checking his email as he sat. Ryuk hesitated nearby as the man placed his cellphone to his ear and began speaking.

"You didn't expect me to speak to you in public without at least appearing to be occupied with a phone call, did you, shinigami?"

Ryuk laughed, settling in front of him. "That's more like it. Now where's that apple?"

"In a moment. I had to step up my approach to you when you found my camera." Inclining his head, the man pierced Ryuk with a dark look over his sunglasses and everything snapped into place.

"Holy crap, you're L!" Ryuk goggled for a moment before erupting in fresh peals of laughter. "Who knew you could stand up straight or even sit like a regular person? I knew this would be interesting."

"Hm, yes, interesting is one word for it." L continued to speak into the cell, confirming to himself that he had indeed been seen by this shinigami before. "And what shall I call you?"

"Heh, the name's Ryuk."

"Greetings then, Ryuk. Misa is occupied, I gather?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, she'll be in the shower awhile – she always takes forever." Ryuk suddenly looked surprised. "Hey, I just remembered – you know about the apple thing because of that note that, um . . . those prisoners wrote."

L looked up sharply at what Ryuk had nearly said. "You mean the coded message the prisoners were forced to write by Kira, otherwise known as Light Yagami?"

"I wouldn't know anything about that." Ryuk's grin couldn't have seemed less innocent. "You didn't really think you could interrogate me, did you?"

"Of course not. I came to bargain with you."

L watched Ryuk laugh even harder than before and suppressed a smile of his own. It was clear that while Ryuk wasn't stupid, he certainly wasn't on Light's level, and he didn't seem allied with Light or anyone else. _I can work with this_, L thought. He had no intention of truly bargaining for anything, however – he just needed to distract Ryuk and possibly get some information out of him in the process. He didn't have much time, from what he could tell, so he got right to the point.

"I would like a Death Note of my own." L looked at Ryuk appraisingly as the shinigami turned around, no longer doubled over in laughter.

"Ha! What, do you think they grow on trees? I can't just give you one!"

"Why not? You gave one to Li- I mean, _Kira_." L's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Am I somehow unworthy?"

"Who says anyone but a shinigami is worthy? Anyway, I didn't give it to anyone – I dropped it, and someone picked it up, simple as that."

"Are all shinigami so clumsy?" L kept his eyes fixed on Ryuk as he tried to hold his cell normally.

"Heh heh – who said it was an accident?" Ryuk's grin widened as he moved his face closer to L's. "I dropped it on purpose."

"Because you wanted something interesting to happen." L's tone was flat.

"Yeah – I was bored, so what? Humans are nothing to me."

"Nothing but entertainment, in any event." L used the disdain in his voice to mask his excitement. _I can use this_, he thought. "As well as a source of apples, I suppose."

"Hey c'mon, are you gonna gimme the apple or what? You're not my only source, you know. Maybe I'll just fly back up and tell Misa about your little camera, then eat some of _her_ apples!"

L sighed and shifted his cell to his right hand, pulling the apple out of his jacket pocket with his left. When Ryuk lunged for it, he pulled it closer to his chest. "If you want to eat it, we will have to make it look as if I am eating it."

Ryuk looked dumbstruck. "But there's no one around!"

"On the contrary, there are three women waiting for a bus on the far side of this fountain, and two men waiting to cross the street toward us. Also, there are the inevitable security cameras on the back entrance of this building behind us and in the jewelry store across the street – those are the most obvious ones, in any event."

"Well how am I supposed to eat the apple and make it look like you are?" Ryuk sputtered. "It's impossible."

L explained as though to a small child. "You will get behind this bench near my left shoulder. I will hold the apple close to my face and turn as if to take a bite. You will bite the apple instead. The angle of this bench is such that my head will block the cameras when the bite is taken and no one else will see it. We will have to time this so that the men about to cross the street are not close to us when this occurs."

"Wow, you . . . really planned this out." Ryuk looked at L as though he was an alien creature. L was quite used to this look.

"Don't be absurd. I merely took note of the camera angles and people as I chose my seat. Ready?" L held the apple next to his left cheek.

"What if I get too close and bite you instead?" Ryuk licked one of the many shark-like teeth jutting from his jaw.

"I doubt you'd do that. I don't taste like an apple, and if you happened to rip out my throat by 'accident' you'd just become bored again." L waited. "Light's about to turn."

Ryuk followed L's eyes to the traffic light at the corner. "OK, fine." In a swift motion, Ryuk swept behind L and took a bite of the apple just as L turned his head toward it. L did not flinch, and Ryuk was able to take more bites and finish the apple by the time the two men had crossed the street and were about to pass them. It was still early, and the streets were not yet packed with commuters.

"Now, don't you think it would be more entertaining if I had a Death Note as well?" L had no intention of letting this drop, choreographed apple-eating or not.

"I already told you, I can't just give you one. It doesn't matter if it would be entertaining or not!" Ryuk shook his head dismissively.

"But a Death Note is a shinigami's tool, is it not?"

"Well duh, what of it?"

"And a shinigami without a Death Note would be incomplete, though only temporarily, yes?"

"Hey, forget it – there's no way I'm giving you my—" Ryuk stopped, seeming to realize what L had gotten him to say.

L's smile held an innocence that was belied by the predatory glee in his eyes. "So, you have your own Death Note as well as the one you gave to . . . Kira." L snorted softly as his smile evaporated. "Apparently they _do_ grow on trees."

"Alright smart guy, I'm done talking. If you want a Death Note so bad, use the one in your office – yeah that's right, I know about that one too." Ryuk's defensiveness amused L.

"I'm not interested in that one."

"Why not?"

L pulled his sunglasses down his nose and looked Ryuk squarely in the eye. "Rem is nowhere near as intriguing as you."

Ryuk hovered, staring, still apparently undecided about whether to leave. "Huh. So I guess you're bored too, then?"

"So it would appear."

"I still can't give you a Death Note."

"You must have obtained a second one somehow."

"Yeah, _that_ trick's not gonna work twice."

"Rem also apparently obtained a second one. Did she do it the same way you did?"

"Eh, I dunno. Try asking her." Ryuk shrugged.

"You say that as if I haven't already."

Ryuk's eyes glittered as he remembered exactly how Rem had obtained the Death Note she'd given to Misa. "Heh, you know . . . if you can figure out how to _kill_ a shinigami, you can probably just take their Death Note." Ryuk chuckled. "Don't try it on me, though – I'll see it coming."

"So . . . you're telling me that shinigami can be killed? And that I should try and kill Rem?" L raised an eyebrow.

"Well, not in so many words, but hey, whatever works, right?"

"Interesting . . ." L caught himself starting to slouch and righted himself quickly.

"I gotta get back – if I'm not hanging around when Misa gets out of her shower, she'll wonder where I was. She keeps telling me not to peek at her in there – she doesn't believe me when I say I couldn't care less!"

"Mm, I am finding that hard to comprehend as well." L's head tilted slightly.

"Ugh, shinigami don't get feelings like that – we don't have sex!" Ryuk looked as surprised to have said that as L was to have heard it. "I mean, uh . . ."

"That would be incredibly convenient – much fewer distractions. And yet," L touched his chin, stopping just short of putting his thumb to his mouth, "I can understand where that might leave you very, very bored."

"Yeah, no kidding." Ryuk started to lift off the ground, wings extending.

"Come find me when she's asleep, or showering again. And avoid Light, of course."

There was no doubt in L's voice as he called up to Ryuk, cell still pressed to his ear. Ryuk found himself admiring his chutzpah and suddenly wondered if L had also placed a camera in Misa's bathroom. Chortling to himself, Ryuk shouted down "I gotta stay near her, so maybe I'll see you when she visits you!"

Not waiting for a response, Ryuk flew straight up and then curved to phase right through the building, passing through several rooms in a flurry before arriving back in Misa's apartment – only to discover she was talking to him.

"Ryuuuuuk! C'mon, which should I wear, the stripey ones or the lacey ones?" Misa poked her toweled head out of the bathroom door and pointed at the stockings she'd draped over her dresser earlier.

"I dunno – wear both or go naked, see if I care!" Ryuk phased as Misa threw a bottle of lotion at his head.

"Pervert!"

"Whatever – I'm so _bored_." Ryuk hid his grin from Misa. _Looks like things are getting good again_, he thought.

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Author's Note: Hi there! Ahem. SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER. OK, remember how in the manga and the anime there seemed to be about 2 or 3 days between the death of Higuchi and the deaths of Watari, L, and Rem? Well, I noticed that the timeline in Death Note: How to Read 13 listed 8 days between those occurrences. Eight whole days! Whether one considers HTR13 canon or not, I decided to take advantage of the longer timeline and use it as sort of a launching point for this fanfic (my first, actually). My initial goal when I started this fic was to have my two favorite characters, L and Ryuk, have a conversation. Having done that, I've discovered some additional goals, so . . . more to come! And thanks for tuning in.

Supplemental Note: I am going through and reposting these chapters because all of the section breaks got taken out. Sorry if the new breaks are oogly.


	2. Slingshot

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: The slightest variation in choices can make all the difference. L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Finding even part of it could be a turning point . . . Slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

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**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 2: Slingshot

Return & Reflect

Safely tucked into the crate marked "SUGAR," L contemplated the events that had led to his being smuggled back into his own building with the supplies that Watari regularly brought in. As soon as Misa had been released, L had known that he would need to continue to observe her, ideally without the rest of the Task Force being aware of it, so the moment Misa had entered the elevator with her bags, accompanied by the rest of the team, L had sprinted to Watari's observation room to explain his plan in person. He'd made it back to his chair just in time for most of the team to return, and had had his decision reaffirmed when Aizawa had switched off his monitor, preventing L from observing Light and Misa in the lobby any further.

"Who the hell needs this much sugar? My back is killin' me . . ." The crate shifted abruptly. L hoped the workers' backs held out, as being discovered among the shattered remains of a sugar crate would be inconvenient. A few moments of awkward shifting and tilting ended with a slam, and L knew he'd made it onto the truck as loose sugar from the bags above and around him dusted his hair and clothes. He couldn't risk moving much but was unable to resist putting his finger in his mouth and dipping it into the spots where the sugar had collected.

Reflexively sucking his sugar-laden finger, L remembered when Misa had returned five days after having been released from HQ. He'd been questioning the shinigami, Rem, for days with minimal success – she had been evasive and seemed morose, but it was hard for L to tell if this was typical shinigami behavior, having only met this one. As soon as Misa had appeared on the monitor after entering the lobby to visit Light, Rem's reaction had been unmistakable: recognition, surprise, and distress. Whatever the reason, seeing Misa had clearly upset the shinigami. L had wondered, _Does Rem know Misa? Or is she reacting to something unseen?_ L had waited for Light to leave the room on his way to see Misa before softly asking Rem, "Do shinigami care at all about the fates of human beings?"

For a second, Rem had looked startled, but her face had then fallen back into its usual impassive mask. "Of course not. Humans are of no consequence to shinigami." But Rem's eyes had strayed back to the monitor as Light embraced Misa. _No consequence indeed_, L had thought; _then why are you so concerned?_ L had considered the possibility that another shinigami was there in the lobby with them, invisible to everyone but Rem – and anyone who had touched the other notebook, of course. L had narrowed his eyes, reaching into his pocket to text Watari without even looking at his cell, letting him know that Wedy would have to move quickly. One benefit of not being chained to Light was that, while he could not observe him, neither could Light observe L. Pulling his hand from his pocket, L had picked up the Death Note with the thumb and forefinger of each hand, staring at a torn page, a question forming on his lips.

L was jolted back to the present when he noticed that the rumbling of the truck had come to a stop and its doors had been slammed. The rattling of the truck's back door as it rose and curved above him was a welcome sound. He rooted around for more sugar in the folds of his suit, heedless of his sticky fingers. He hoped that what he had set into motion would be enough, and he was anxious to return and see it play out. It had never occurred to L to run – or, more accurately, he had dismissed the idea immediately. He could not run when so much had already been risked, and sacrificed, to catch Kira. It was no mere point of pride – it was an obligation, a debt he had to pay.

Several minutes passed after the crate had lurched and been dropped onto a hard surface. L waited, knowing he could not risk trying to emerge too early, even after he heard the truck drive away and the delivery bay door close. Eventually, L heard faint footsteps and then the creak of metal against wood quite close to his head. With a straining crack, the lid of the crate was off, and Watari lifted the wooden divider covered in sugar bags above L's head, peering down at L, who was crouched in his usual position. "Comfy?" Watari intoned, a twinkle in his eye.

L regarded him balefully. "I believe those delivery men have bruised my posterior." Not reacting to Watari's raised eyebrows, L stepped out of the crate. "Perhaps if they were in better physical condition, they would not be dropping supply boxes or complaining of back pain."

Watari seemed to be suppressing a chuckle. "Perhaps. But they do not ask questions, and they deliver promptly."

"Has anyone checked?" L asked as he changed into a set of his usual clothes.

"It's still morning, but your absence has been noted. Light did go up to the room you used to share to check on you, but I kept it locked, as you asked. I believe the pre-programmed audio we set up in the bathroom functioned as intended." Watari paused, one corner of his mouth twitching upward slightly. "Though it is unclear how much Light was able to hear from the hallway, his expression did seem more sour than usual upon his return."

L allowed himself a smile at that. "Well, I should have no trouble acting the part of the ill detective today – I am overdue for sleep and have no time for it."

"How unusual for you."

"Did you send it?" L cocked his head to one side.

"Yes, of course. We should know the first of the results by tomorrow, at the latest."

"Thank you for everything, Watari."

"Not at all." Watari hesitated in the process of unpacking the rest of the sugar. "I . . . realize that things have been busy of late, but I wanted to apologize for not making you a birthday cake this week."

"That is perfectly understandable, Watari. It is not as though I have been without cake entirely."

"Nor has the earth stopped spinning, for that matter." Watari smiled. "I thought I would take it upon myself to make you a special cake today to make up for it."

L's eyes lit up. "That sounds wonderful. I look forward to it." L walked from the delivery bay through the supply room, heading for the elevator with the slightest bounce in his step, pausing to turn after he pushed the button. "Oh, and I think perhaps an accompanying aroma should be . . . deployed in my old room, purely to increase plausibility. I will continue to use the other room two floors up as planned. Has anyone noticed the camera adjustments?"

"They have not, and I doubt they will unless something draws attention to them. I do not believe that they will realize that this freight elevator's camera is offline at the moment, and it will be back on once you've gotten situated. I will take care of the aroma."

It was L's turn to raise his eyebrows at Watari as the elevator reached their level.

"As you can see," Watari gestured to the corner of the room, "there is a box of eggs here that was delivered several weeks ago that somehow never made it into a refrigerator."

L's face crinkled into the tiniest of grins as he stepped into the elevator.

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Replay

Shuffling more slowly than usual, L entered the main investigation room, HQ proper, the harsh lights seeming just as bright as the morning sun outside, minus the warmth. L kept his eyes cast low, waiting for the inevitable.

"Ryuzaki, where were you?" Light's voice was flooded with false concern.

"Hm?" L looked up, careful to keep his eyes hooded rather than wide. "Oh, I was experiencing some digestive distress. Nothing to worry about." L moved listlessly to his usual seat and perched there.

"Since when do you get 'digestive distress'? I've seen the way you eat – I figured you must have a stomach of steel!" Light stood over him expectantly. "It's unlike you to spend so much time in the bathroom, if that's where you were."

"Light, did you grow so accustomed to my presence while we were chained together that you miss even my bowel movements?" L suppressed his amusement as he watched Light sputter in revulsion.

"Ugh – no! Of _course_ not. It's just that in all the time we've been working together, this is the first time you've ever been sick." Light skewered L with a sidelong look.

"Hm, yes, that's true. I suppose it was just a matter of time, then." L turned his back on Light to gaze at the wall of screens. "Consider yourself lucky that this did not happen sooner." L leaned forward to drop sugarcubes into the coffee that had been left at his place. "Oh, and if I get up quickly to head to the bathroom, you will probably want to let me by unimpeded. Otherwise, things could be . . . messy." L thought he heard Light's teeth grinding and fought the urge to smirk.

Soichiro Yagami burst into the room, seeming agitated. "What's going on? Criminals are being killed again?" he yelled.

"Sixteen just last night . . ." Aizawa was already looking at the reports onscreen. "All the people shown on TV since Higuchi's death . . ."

"All at once . . ." Matsuda marveled.

"Damn you, Kira." Light said, clenching his fists. L narrowed his eyes, waiting for more.

"So, as we suspected, Higuchi wasn't Kira." Resignation colored Soichiro's voice.

"No, it's accurate that Higuchi was killing the criminals up to the time he was caught." Light put in.

"So then another Kira has appeared?" Aizawa sounded more exasperated than usual.

"Ahhh! Why?" Matsuda held his head as though expecting the ceiling to cave in on him.

"But this makes it clear that there really is another notebook out there." Light put his hand to his mouth in a mimicry of L before looking over his shoulder. "Right, Rem?"

The shinigami hesitated, eye narrowed. "Must be . . . a shinigami wouldn't go out of his way to kill only criminals . . ."

L let the silence stretch out for a moment, wondering if anyone else would say it. He glanced at his cell to read a text from Watari and then dropped it back in his pocket. Taking a bite of one of the cookies he'd pinched from the supply room, he said "This happens the moment Misa is set free . . ."

"Ryuzaki, you're still saying that?" Light's indignation rang as false to L's ears as it ever had, but L did not miss Rem's expression of dismay reflected in the screen before him. Light went on, "This has nothing to do with Misa. She was already suspected of being the second Kira. Even if she did have Kira's powers, she isn't stupid enough to use them at a time like this. If you're talking about timing, then say 'the moment Higuchi died'."

"That's true . . ." L fiddled with his packet of cookies while waiting for the others to pursue this line of thought. _Higuchi's death is key_, L thought, _but will they recognize it?_

"Light's right, Ryuzaki. We need to forget about Amane." Soichiro predictably echoed his son. "Those who use the notebook die unless they keep writing people's names. Amane's innocence has been proven based on that." Soichiro scowled through his glasses.

"Yes, you're too obsessed with your theories, Ryuzaki. You keep trying to go back to them." Aizawa asserted.

_They really aren't getting it_, L thought. "Yes, I apologize." L stared straight ahead, deciding how much to say. "Well, if there's another notebook out there that someone is using, I'll definitely catch that person." L crunched his cookies and noticed Light smirking behind him. _Do people actually think their reflections cannot be seen in a monitor?_ L wondered. Even if he had missed it, Watari certainly would not have from his observation room, but then people often forgot that Watari was watching too. L forced himself to pay attention to Soichiro 's droning.

" . . . If all this new Kira does is kill criminals, it won't be as easy to locate him as it was with Higuchi."

"You're right . . . " Matsuda looked like he was trying to think.

L spoke without moving. "We know how the killing is done now. If we find someone suspicious, we apprehend them and thoroughly examine whether or not they have the notebook." L kept his comments obvious and waited to see where the conversation would go, or would be led.

"But Ryuzaki, this murder notebook . . . I believe it's real, but even if we catch the person writing names into it, will we be able to punish them as a serial killer?" Light put his hands on his hips.

_Interesting point for you to bring up, Light Yagami_, L thought. "Not unless the murder notebook's effectiveness is proven. But that is meaningless to me. Once the case is solved, I'll let the court system worry about that."

"Wait," Matsuda interjected, "of course you could punish him without testing the notebook."

"Matsuda, for that we'd have to introduce the notebook as evidence in a court of law . . ." Soichiro trailed off in apparent contemplation.

"Well, I mean . . . I'm not talking about that." Matsuda continued, "The person is writing names down knowing it will kill people! If we don't want the existence of the notebook revealed to the public, the suspect should be executed in secret."

"That's a harsh conclusion, but I bet that's what our superiors would demand." Aizawa assented glumly.

"That would be unfortunate. The goal here is to _catch_ Kira," L intoned, pinching another one of his panda cookies until it cracked, "not create another one." L paused as everyone gasped. The reflection showed Light's brow furrowing.

"What do you mean, Ryuzaki?" Soichiro said on cue.

"Well . . . if we apprehend this Kira and allow our 'superiors' to have him executed in secret, with or without using the notebook, odds are strong that they would be tempted to use the notebook as well. In fact, I would say there is an 89% chance that someone higher up the chain of command in either the NPA, the FBI, or the ICPO would want to use the notebook, presumably to advance the goals of that organization – at least at first." L tilted his head back, his thumb to his lips. "If we go public with the murder notebook, it will cause panic, but if we keep it a secret amongst those enforcing the law, we risk having someone else acting as Kira. It's something of a conundrum . . ."

"We've had the notebook here for about eight days already, Ryuzaki, and you're the only one of us who's even suggested using it!" Aizawa yelled. "What makes you think our superiors would use it?"

"I did not and do not want to use it, Aizawa. I only want to _test_ it to prove conclusively that it works according to the instructions written within it. However," L looked pointedly at Aizawa, "I am not sure whether to proceed with that at this point. As many rules as there are written in the notebook, there are clearly still some governing its use that are unknown. The nature of the deal Higuchi made in order to see people's names, for example. Since the shinigami is unable or unwilling to discuss the rules that are not written, it is difficult to know whether there are additional consequences to using the notebook." L looked around at the others and spoke more quickly to avoid being interrupted. "Also, it is considerably less likely that the Task Force members here would use the notebook, since we have all witnessed firsthand the destruction it has caused. We all staked our lives to solve this case, and to use such a cowardly tool for murder and render all of our efforts and sacrifices to catch Kira meaningless as a result would be incredibly stupid. I would put the chances of one of us using the notebook at about . . . 13%." L glanced at Matsuda. "Maybe 16%."

"Hey!" Matsuda's face reddened.

"But Ryuzaki, if we can't put Kira on trial publicly, and we can't turn him over to our superiors, what are we supposed to do?" Light was beginning to look a bit flushed too.

"Do you expect us to execute him ourselves?" Aizawa's expression was grim.

"I do not expect anything. We will have ample time to decide what to do with Kira once we catch him. In the end, it might be more prudent to make him lose his memories, however that is accomplished," L gestured vaguely toward Rem, "but that cannot be our focus right now. We must solve the case that is before us."

"Well, these sixteen criminals are the first murders of this new Kira –"

"No." L firmly interrupted Aizawa. "The first victim of Kira was Higuchi himself." L saw Light's eyes widen slightly and strove not to look directly at him. "We're going to have to try and establish a pattern based on these _seventeen_ murders, as well as any deaths during this time frame, whether they were the result of a heart attack or something else."

"Memory loss isn't a proven result of using the notebook, Ryuzaki." Light's voice was low, his eyes narrowed to slits.

"Agreed, Light. It hasn't been proven. Yet." L turned to stare directly into Light's eyes. "It is one of many things about the notebook that remain unclear. That is why we must proceed methodically and with caution."

"But the 13 Day Rule proved Misa's and my innocence! The memory loss you think may have happened couldn't even be related to the notebook's use!" Light's voice sounded strained.

"The memory loss I 'think may have happened'?" L's sarcasm rolled off him in a wave. "Don't be disingenuous, Light. It was obvious to everyone that both you and Misa lost some of your memories, so it's pointless to deny it."

"Yeah Light, you forgot some of what you told us and contradicted yourself after being imprisoned that first week," Aizawa chimed in, "but we still don't know why." Aizawa's eyes flicked toward L, who was still staring at Light.

"Exactly." L pointed a bony finger at Light. "And it would be far too coincidental for the memory loss to be completely unrelated to the notebook, given the timing of everything. Whether there was a notebook user who was able to control you and Misa without killing either of you, or you used the notebook at some point yourself without dying, or you simply came into contact with the notebook and suffered those effects, there is a likelihood of 91% that the memory loss is related to the notebook." L sat back a bit on his haunches as Light averted his eyes. "You shouldn't be worried about this, Light. The information we gather regarding the notebook and the new Kira may well exonerate you."

"Ryuzaki, my son has already been exonerated based on the 13 Day Rule – you agreed to release him and Amane based on that!" Soichiro exasperatedly pointed out.

"Yes, I did, but it could hardly hurt him, or Misa, to have more evidence proving their innocence." L watched tension leave Soichiro just as it seemed to build in his son. Light's fists clenched reflexively, and Rem seemed to fix a glare on the back of Light's head.

L tried once more to refocus everyone. "The current Kira seems at first glance to be operating under the same pattern as the original Kira, insofar as only criminals seem to be dying, but it's too soon to be sure. Yotsuba tried to hide the deaths that were beneficial to them, so it's possible there is a hidden subpattern of killings that this Kira is following as well. We must examine all deaths from Higuchi's death until now. It's been nearly eight days since then, and we will be going through a large amount of data to determine which deaths fit a pattern." L spun his chair to face his computer again.

"Oh man – this is gonna take forever!" Matsuda exclaimed, putting his palm to his forehead.

"Certainly not." L didn't turn around. "All important cases involve intensive research and data collection. It's not all car chases and shoot-outs." L's sharp tone made Matsuda wince.

"I know, sorry . . ."

"Also, we'll be focusing on Japan for now, as it is still most likely that Kira is here. If the information we gather does not bear this out, we may have to expand our investigation to deaths worldwide." Ignoring everyone else's grunts of frustration, L placed his thumb to his lip and thought of Naomi Misora. "We will need to look at any suspicious disappearances as well."

As the Task Force nodded in reluctant assent, L turned to face the quietest man. "Mogi, I want you to begin gathering this data for me now. Use every available resource and list all deaths and disappearances starting with Higuchi. His name goes at the top. Get Matsuda to help you gather and sort through this information, and quickly."

"Ryuzaki, I . . . work better at this kind of thing alone." Mogi said somewhat sheepishly.

"As do I, Mogi, but we must adapt if we want to close this case for good." L nodded slightly, as close to a gesture of commiseration as he would allow himself. "If you were able to work with Misa, working with Matsuda should be . . . well, no more difficult, anyway." L saw Matsuda huff angrily, his face reddening again. Though it seemed cruel to pick on the man, L felt it was necessary to keep people's focus off of Light for the time being, and Matsuda was nothing if not an easy target.

L turned to Soichiro. "Mr. Yagami, I need you to question Namikawa of Yotsuba. See what insight he can offer on Higuchi, including any behavior changes before and after their secret meetings started and any personal and professional details on him."

"I thought we had all the information we needed from Yotsuba." Soichiro seemed surprised.

"Well, we would have, had Higuchi survived, but . . ." L rubbed his feet together, gathering his thoughts, "I do not want to leave any lead unfollowed. There may be insights we can gain regarding the notebook's use and effects from Higuchi's behavior. And it is possible that the new Kira is another person at Yotsuba, or simply someone known to Higuchi. Do _not_ let Namikawa know that we still suspect anyone at Yotsuba, however." L looked directly at Soichiro. "We need his willing cooperation. Engage him in conversation as a colleague, and if he seems reluctant, you could perhaps remind him that we are not charging him with any of Kira's crimes as per our arrangement."

"Of course. I'll treat it as more of a casual conversation than an interrogation." Soichiro nodded.

"Aizawa, it would be most helpful if you could start visiting hospitals and clinics, starting here in Tokyo."

"What? Why would that be helpful at all?" Aizawa seemed stunned.

L crunched absently on his last cookie. "Oftentimes, there are things that . . . mm, fall through the cracks, especially at larger institutions – the number of John Does in a morgue can go misreported, there are patients who don't check out of the hospital properly, and some patients never officially check in. Mistakes are made. I find that hospital staffs, particularly nurses and orderlies, can be excellent sources of information regarding otherwise hidden occurrences at these locations. If you could engage some of these people in conversation and possibly fill in any potential gaps in the information on deaths and disappearances we're getting through normal channels, it would be quite helpful, even essential, to the case." L met Aizawa's eyes. "Is there someone at the NPA whom you trust to help you with this?"

Aizawa sat up a little straighter. "Yeah, there is."

"Excellent. You may bring this person with you to the hospitals and clinics, or you may split up and search separately to cover ground more quickly – I leave that up to you. But I ask you not to discuss anything pertaining to me with this person, only the relevant details of the case. And of course this person may not accompany you into these headquarters, but you must realize all of that." L faced his computer again and sipped his coffee. _These efforts should slow everyone down enough and keep them focused plausibly on the case_, L thought; _and who knows, we may actually learn something important._

"Understood, Ryuzaki. I'll get started right now." Aizawa got up and headed for the elevator.

"Thank you."

"Uh, Ryuzaki . . ."

"Oh yes, Light." L spoke without turning. "I have a very important task for you as well."

"Great, what is it?" Light's interest sounded feigned.

"Please monitor these screens for a moment and respond if Watari contacts you here. I am afraid that my digestive distress has not yet abated." With a convincing grimace, his hand low on his belly, L unfolded himself out of his chair and moved rapidly out of the room, leaving everyone in stunned silence, a disgusted expression flitting across Light's face as L passed him.

As L moved away, Soichiro's voice broke the silence. "OK everyone – we all know what we need to do now. Let's get to work."

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: This is only chapter 2, but thanks to all of you who have read this far! There's . . . gonna be a bunch more. I tend to write things by hand and then edit as I type, so I have a few chapters handwritten, and I'm trying to get them up as soon as they're typed/edited.

Since most of my breaks are shorter than I would consider a chapter, I'm deciding on chapter names as I roll – I'm still undecided on whether I should really be naming the breaks AND the chapters, but I've started that, so I guess I'll keep it up (or edit later, groan). I titled this chapter "Slingshot" because that's basically what I did with the section of the manga I used – the plot is about to slingshot in a different direction as a result of the different decisions/responses. We'll see how far it goes. ;-)


	3. Momentum

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: The slightest variation in choices can make all the difference. L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Finding even part of it could be a turning point . . . Slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 3: Momentum

Deployment

Careful to keep the bounce out of his walk, L moved slowly down the hall – he did need to appear ill, after all. L ducked into the men's restroom and entered the third stall. Cautiously lifting the tank's lid, he found two eggs inside as expected from Watari's text. L was pleased, if not surprised, at how quickly Watari had worked, and imagined that his former quarters were likely being taken care of at that very moment, if they hadn't been already. L reached into the tank and removed the eggs, cracking and dumping their contents into the tank. The stench was powerful, bringing tears to his eyes and nearly making him vomit. L dropped the empty shells into the bowl and wiped his hands with toilet paper, dropping that in the bowl as well.

Starting to feel woozy from the fumes, he carefully replaced the tank's lid, allowing himself to grunt a bit as he did so to cover any sound of ceramic on ceramic, and to lend some realism in case anyone had followed and was listening from the hallway. L flushed the toilet, the rotten eggs mixing with the water as the bowl refilled, thus ensuring that the scent would remain for awhile. Exiting the stall to scrub his hands at the sinks, L was starting to regret some of the tactics he'd chosen to deflect suspicion regarding his absences, but he knew he couldn't switch them at this point.

Hands clean, L emerged into the hallway to see Soichiro heading directly toward him. "Ryuzaki, I – gah!" Soichiro reeled back, blocking his nose with his hand, the rotten egg stench emitting from the restroom rolling into the hall and over them both. "My god, you need to see a doctor!"

The smell was handily making L queasy, adding some credibility to his act. "I do have access to doctor recommendations, as well as some medical experience of my own." L gave a wan smile. "The body can be . . . uncooperative sometimes. Luckily, I do have some medicine that I can take back in my room. I had really been hoping that this would pass more quickly. So to speak."

Soichiro shook his head ruefully. "You really should take better care of yourself. It's not my place to say, but . . . your usual diet isn't very nutritious and is likely to be compromising your immune system. You must already know that, based on your medical knowledge, but they say doctors are the worst patients . . ."

"That is a fair point. I am sorry, but I must –" L gestured toward the stairwell door further down the hall.

"Of course, don't let me keep you. I'm on my way to talk to Namikawa." Soichiro turned back toward the HQ room where the secure elevator with access to the garage was as L walked toward the far stairs before stopping and turning back. "Your health is important, Ryuzaki. We can't lose you."

L paused at the stairwell door, surprised to be moved by the fatherly concern in Soichiro's voice, and looked back at him. "I will endeavor to recuperate as best I can, Mr. Yagami. Thank you."

Soichiro nodded, and they each crossed their respective thresholds.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Egress

The stench roiling through L's old quarters was breathtaking. Literally. L fairly sprinted across the room, passing the bathroom and heading right for the bedroom window. He did not want to undo all of Watari's work, but he did need to access the other room unseen, and, perhaps ironically, the only way he could do that at the moment was via the window. The motion sensor was functioning as intended, since it had triggered the digital recording as soon as he approached the outside door and was still playing the sounds of illness he had recorded yesterday for this purpose. Occasional groans interspersed with various splashing noises played according to an algorithm of realistic cause and response. The device was functioning effectively enough to be adding to L's queasiness, despite his having been an architect of its design.

Though he realized he could have made it to his other apartment surreptitiously by way of the stairs, considering the way Watari had angled the cameras in the stairwell, L also knew that he had to be seen on camera entering his old apartment in order to avoid raising too much suspicion. He hoped that he would not have to continually access the other room in this manner, as he was already weary of playing the daredevil.

L fingered the lock to the window furthest from the bed and opened it. The air smelled as sweet as strawberries compared to that in the room, and L climbed out onto the emergency ladder Wedy had set up for him. Pulling the window closed behind him, he ascended the ladder two stories up, climbing hand over hand, not looking down, the shadow of the building keeping the air around him cool.

The window he intended to enter came within reach, and he pushed it open and pulled himself inside with ease. Surveying the room as he crouched on the floor, he hoped his words in HQ had motivated Light to contact Misa. L could not be sure whether Misa would visit as a result, or when, but if she did, he knew Ryuk would be in tow. L needed to make certain that no one saw him speaking to the other shinigami – especially if they happened to be able to see Ryuk as well.

Sighing, L wondered how often he would need to find time apart from the Task Force in this manner as he straightened up somewhat and looked around the entire apartment. On the other hand, L realized that there were only so many things he could control, and after all, getting a little time to himself would just be icing on the cake.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Summoned

"Ugh – just once, I wish he would call me for fun instead of giving me all these instructions."

"Heh heh – he's always planning something." Ryuk glanced down at Misa, who was walking ahead of him. "Does this mean you're getting tired of Light?"

"What? No way! I _love_ Light, and I always will! Stupid shinigami." Misa hastened her pace in a huff, forcing Ryuk to fly a little faster to keep up.

"Aren't you even gonna tell me what he said?"

"Well, I was _going_ to, but now you'll just have to wait and see." Misa flipped her hair in a gold arc and kept stomping forward in silence as she passed several people on the sidewalk.

Ryuk decided that he would enjoy the cold shoulder treatment Misa was trying to give him. Golden or not, silence was certainly preferable to her whining.

From his position hovering above and behind Misa's head, Ryuk was able to observe the other humans flowing around them, a river of names pinned to flesh. He wondered how many of them were annoying. A woman yelling into her cellphone ran into a man with a briefcase rushing in the opposite direction, and they began yelling at each other as a couple passing them by snickered to themselves. How many? _Too many_, Ryuk thought.

He was lucky Light had been the one to pick up his Death Note – he would have gotten bored much too quickly with someone short-sighted, obnoxious, or stupid. Or more perhaps more to the point, _they_ were lucky. Ryuk chuckled softly, ignoring Misa's "hmph" in response. He wondered if he'd be able to pull this off, or if he should even bother. If only Light hadn't made Ryuk attach himself to Misa, he might not be so bored right now.

Misa rounded a corner with Ryuk bobbing after her like a drastically misshapen balloon. One more block to go and they'd be there. _Whatever ends up happening, this should at least be interesting_, Ryuk thought. He found himself anticipating the rest of the day almost as much as he would a whole basketful of apples. Not even the rainclouds starting to form above him could spoil his mood.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

To the Grindstone

"I think my eyes are bleeding."

Mogi sighed. "It hasn't been that long, Matsuda. We've got a lot more to go through." Mogi focused on the database he was creating on his computer. He thought he'd have been much further along by now if he'd been working alone, though he chided himself for having such an uncharitable thought.

"Tell you what, I'll go get us some more coffee. I need some anyway, and it'll probably help to stretch my legs. Be right back!" Matsuda hopped up and walked away without waiting for an answer.

A weight seemed to lift from Mogi's shoulders. He didn't dislike Matsuda – he simply preferred working alone. Intense focus on detailed tasks was one of Mogi's gifts. But he grudgingly realized that L was right, and he would need to adjust. If he'd been able to act as Misa's high-energy manager, he should be able to handle this.

"Hey Mogi! I couldn't remember if you liked cream and sugar, so I brought both just in case." Matsuda set both cups and the bowl of sugarcubes and creamers on the desk with a clatter, nearly spilling coffee on a stack of print-outs.

"I take it black, Matsuda." Mogi consciously unclenched the muscles he hadn't noticed reclenching. He found himself wishing that the Task Force employed a masseuse.

"Ha ha! You're right, I completely forgot." Matsuda sat down and plunked a couple of sugarcubes in his own coffee, mixing it with a spoon, the soft clinking carrying across the room where Light appeared to be deep in thought.

Mogi scanned the list on the screen, comparing an NPA report with one from a local hospital before entering information into his database. They were focusing on known deaths first, both suspicious and not, each of them looking at one hospital at a time, noting any discrepancies between police reports and hospital reports and compiling all of the data into Mogi's database chronologically, though they would also be able to sort by cause of death, location, and an assortment of personal details. Disappearances would be listed in a separate database and compiled similarly, unless L wanted them added to the list of the dead. Mogi hoped he wasn't missing anything. He was nearly finished compiling the data from his second hospital. Matsuda had barely started on his first.

Slurping his coffee, Matsuda leaned forward to peer intently into his own computer screen, neck extended and back absurdly hunched in a parody of attentiveness. There were times when Mogi wondered how Matsuda had gotten himself promoted to the same level he and Aizawa had been. He knew it wasn't cronyism or nepotism, as none of Matsuda's family was in the NPA or any other aspect of police work. It didn't seem to be the result of hard work. Mogi guessed that it must have been a combination of charisma, good luck, and being an excellent shot. He didn't know anyone who didn't like Matsuda – even Aizawa, gruff as he was, admitted this – and being in the right place at the right time two years ago had allowed Matsuda to stop a criminal with one shot, effectively ending a serial murder case that had been on the books for months. He hadn't killed the man, taking instead the more difficult leg shot to prevent the criminal from running away but leaving him alive to be questioned. Even Matsuda had called himself lucky, and their superiors had rewarded his service.

In his peripheral vision, Mogi saw Matsuda lean even closer to the screen, his eyes bunched into a comical squint. The elbow he had perched on the edge of the desk suddenly slipped, causing Matsuda to fall forward with a gasp of surprise. He managed to catch himself before falling to the floor or knocking anything over, but he still managed to dip his nose fully into his cup of coffee, and he came up sputtering.

Mogi handed him a napkin. "Matsuda . . . "

"Ugh, I know!" Matsuda interrupted, face flushed as he took the napkin from Mogi, nodding in gratitude. "I've been trying to concentrate . . ." Matsuda seemed to be trying to reign in his frustration as he mopped his face. "It's just . . . this all seems like so much busywork, almost like we're not even really working on the case anymore."

Mogi glared at Matsuda, not noticing that Light had become very still. "Are you trying to say that this work isn't important?"

"No no!" Some of the color drained from his face as Matsuda put his hands up as though he could wave off Mogi's rare expression of anger. "I know this information is important. I don't know, I guess I'm just frustrated because . . . well, we already _caught_ Kira once, and now we have to do it all over again. It was hard enough the first time! I nearly died – hell, I had to _pretend_ to die, and then I was bait . . . but now there's a new Kira, killing criminals just like before. What was the point? What did we really accomplish? It's like we're on a treadmill chasing Kira, never getting any closer."

"Yeah, we're all pretty frustrated." Mogi nodded.

"I'm sorry, Mogi. I know I'm not much help to you here. I always slow everything down." Matsuda stared at the floor.

"Hey, don't say that." Mogi's tone softened. "You just have different abilities, a different personality. We all bring something unique to the team, you know that." Mogi was not used to comforting anyone, least of all a co-worker, but he felt guilty for thinking less of Matsuda.

"Thanks, Mogi. I guess you're right. It's just that, well, every time I do something good, it's like some kind of accident."

"That's not true." Mogi wondered if it was true. "You just . . . make the most of your circumstances when there is an accident."

"Right – like getting a faceful of coffee?" Matsuda gave one last perfunctory swipe at his nose before throwing the napkin into the wastebasket under the desk.

"You didn't fall on the floor, did you? You didn't break your nose or knock all of our paperwork onto the floor, right?"

"Well yeah, that's true . . ."

"So maybe a near-fall was the adrenaline rush you needed to get yourself awake and focused again."

Matsuda didn't look like he necessarily agreed with Mogi's assessment, but he seemed to brighten somewhat and nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks! OK, let's see how far I can get this time." Matsuda cracked his neck and got back to work, sitting up straighter in his chair.

Mogi turned with relief back to his computer screen. _Hopefully he'll last long enough for me to get to hospital number three_, Mogi thought.

"I'm heading to the bathroom," Light said with his usual dry finality. "If Watari calls through, will one of you answer him?"

"Yes, of course." Mogi watched Light walk away. "You're not sick too, are you?"

"No, nothing like that. Just too much coffee, I guess."

Mogi watched Light head out of HQ into the hall, presumably to the restroom where L had gone some time earlier. Moments later, Mogi thought heard stifled choking and gagging from that direction and resolved to use a restroom on a different floor should the need arise.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

On the Trail

"Unbelievable . . ." Light muttered to himself behind the hand he'd involuntarily clapped to the lower half of his face. With his other hand, he reached back for the restroom door, pushing it with an elbow to open it and escape into the hallway. None of the stalls had been occupied – no one was inside. _So where the hell is L?_ Light wondered, fury building within him. He found himself wishing that Mogi and Matsuda were still having their pointless discussion, if only to cover the sound of his footsteps. Because he was going to have to find L. Whether L's illness was a trick or not, he was definitely up to something.

Light glanced down the hall toward main HQ. Rem was still there, slouched silently over the side table where the Death Note had been left. Her eye had not left Light since his argument with L regarding the cause of Misa's and his memory loss, but she didn't seem willing to talk to him. Light was no longer sure that he could rely on her to kill L for him to protect Misa, dying herself in the process as he had planned. Alternate plans flitted through his head, and he gritted his teeth to think that he might have to find a way for Misa to get L's name after all. Light would have much preferred to find another way to make his primary plan work, but he knew he had to leave his options open. He hadn't gone this far to lose now.

Shooting one last look at the shinigami, Light turned his back on Rem and moved toward the stairs. _L must have come this way_, he thought; _I'll check our old room first_. Light squared his shoulders and pushed open the door to the stairwell. _I'm coming for you, L – you won't win this_.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Well, now that I've grossed you all out . . . O_o By the way, I realize that it's potentially disrespectful and sort of inconsistent to refer to Chief Yagami as Soichiro, since most others are addressed in text by their last names, but calling him Yagami is too confusing with Light around, and calling him Chief is too impersonal.

Also, I'm going to be playing with POV a bit. I kept to L's POV at first (dipping into Ryuk's at the end of chapter 1), but I wanted to try POVs from different characters and sort of explore them more. This fic will be 3rd person limited (well, their thoughts are in first person) for its duration, but there's no reason I can't have a bit of fun with that. I may keep entire sections to one POV, and I may have other sections start from one POV and end with another. Maybe I'll even try some back-and-forth too. Hopefully it will all remain clear.

About the layout of HQ . . . in both the manga and the anime, the main room is apparently completely enclosed, has only one elevator, and has two glass staircases that supposedly access the rest of the building (or Misa's apartment, in any event), which is, quite frankly, a ridiculous and horrible building design. So in my fic, the main HQ room connects to the hallway, there are other elevators on the other side, there are stairwells and bathrooms. I may sketch out a floorplan just so I can keep it consistent, lol.


	4. Three Conversations

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: The slightest variation in choices can make all the difference. L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Finding even part of it could be a turning point . . . Slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 4: Three Conversations

Resumption

"I see. Yes, of course. Well, if that does not work, we may have to improvise. The new bugs have been placed as discussed? Mm-hm. Good. I am going to take a shower now, but I will keep my cell nearby if you need to contact me. Thank you, Watari." L closed his phone with a snap.

L was not at all surprised that Light was still trying to trail him. L expected nothing less than Light's complete suspicion. This was why he knew he had to act as swiftly as possible. At least two aspects of his plan were already in motion and could not be stopped. It remained to be seen how much more he could achieve, how much proof he could amass. L did not want to die, but more than that, he did not want to die in vain. Solving the case, stopping the murders – these were imperatives.

Continuing his rumination as he peeled off his clothing, dropping each item into a steel hamper, L wondered what the relationship had been between Rem and Misa. It was unlikely to be sexual – even if Ryuk's statements were not to be believed, Rem did not appear to have genitalia of any kind, and Misa seemed to prefer haughty prettyboys. _What is it, then?_ L wondered. _Why does Rem seem to care so much about Misa when she seems not to care about anyone else? It can't simply be random._ L was certain that there must be some reason, however elusive, and wondered how Rem's motivation affected the case.

L turned the faucet handle and started the shower running, waiting for the water to warm up, still stumped by the conundrum. _If it isn't sexual in nature . . . perhaps it could be protectiveness. A motherly tendency?_ L thought, pressing his thumb to his lower lip. _How absurd._ It seemed very strange to think of a shinigami having maternal instincts, considering that they existed to kill, but then again it was strange to think of a shinigami at all. L hadn't wanted to even consider such things, but having seen the proof of their existence with his own eyes, there was no point in denying it. To ignore them and what they could do could easily prove fatal to all of them.

Stepping into the hot jet of water, L closed the shower door behind him, glancing back to make sure that his phone was set close enough for him to reach it quickly should Watari call him. The water prodding his skin felt good, and he closed his eyes and moved into it more fully, enjoying the heat as it raked over his face and poured down his body. He turned, head tilted back to wet his hair thoroughly, and groped for the soap.

He knew the others thought that he didn't care much about personal hygiene, and L supposed they were partly right – he really didn't care much how he looked. Hair kept his head warm, so he didn't shave it, but facial hair would trap food in it, so he did shave that. He always wore the same basic outfit because he didn't want to expend any thought on what to wear, but it was always a clean set of clothes each day, and they were comfortable. Though he didn't care how he looked, he _did_ care about being clean. L liked showering. He found it relaxing, and he felt refreshed afterwards. L poured some of the strawberry-scented bodywash from its pink fish-shaped container into his hand, proceeding to rub it into his hair and over the rest of himself as he always did. Setting the bottle down, he worked the soap into a lather, feeling the suds run down his legs.

Abruptly, L found that he could not feel the water, although he could still hear it running and feel its steam. He cocked open an eye and peered behind him. Had he not met Ryuk before now, he might have been startled.

"Heh heh – how ya doin'? You said I should stop by when I could, and I was in the neighborhood. It took me awhile to find you in this stupid building." Ryuk's immense form took up about half the space in the otherwise roomy shower stall.

L turned to fully face Ryuk, regarding him balefully. "If you are going to occupy this space with me, could you at least discorporeate? You're deflecting the water." In fact, some of the water was splashing off of Ryuk and out of the stall.

"Huh? Oh, right." Ryuk phased and the water passed through him to hit L again, warming his belly.

"Thank you." L resumed scrubbing, moving forward to rinse the soap from his hair and body, unconcerned that he was occupying the same physical space as Ryuk, his head seemingly buried in Ryuk's chest as he moved his fingers through his hair.

"Not much rattles you, eh?" Ryuk chuckled.

"How long do we have?" L leaned into the water, eyes closed.

"What do you mean?" Ryuk watched L, a strange expression on his face. "I don't swing that way, if that's what you're thinking."

L shook his hair out and rolled his eyes as he turned away. "You don't swing much of anything from what I can see."

"Wha— hey! You want me to block the water again? I don't even have to be here, you know."

"For a being who supposedly does not have sexual feelings, you certainly seem defensive about it. Which is interesting, since you brought it up." L skewered Ryuk with a glance over his shoulder. "I asked how much time we have since I assume that Misa must be here to visit Light, and your absence will be noted."

"Oh. Yeah, I made sure me and Misa had kind of an argument so it wouldn't seem weird that I was gone." Ryuk noticed that, in some ways, L and Light were very similar – they were both willful, and they stayed on topic, and on target, when they wanted to, seeming to think through every possible outcome, manipulating situations to suit their needs. _Heh, not everything's the same_, Ryuk thought, chortling, glancing down as L turned toward him.

"Hm, well, that will help explain it, but I'm sure Light will still be suspicious."

"Meh, when isn't he." Ryuk rolled his eyes, completely missing L's brief expression of triumph.

L reached through Ryuk's still-phased form to turn off the shower. "So I suppose we only have a little while to talk." As he stepped out of the shower stall, the now-soaked rug made a squishing noise under L's feet. Ryuk watched L stifle a grimace as he blotted water from his skin with a towel. "Let's move into the next room so we can have the illusion of some personal space." L picked his phone up by thumb and forefinger and exited the bathroom.

Ryuk floated out behind him. "I hope you're not just gonna ask me for a Death Note again – I already told you I can't give you one."

"That is what you said, yes. It's not as if I have lost my memories." L's tone was dry.

_This guy's good_, Ryuk thought, nonetheless deciding not to confirm the memory loss issue. "Well, then what do you want to talk about?"

"How many other shinigami are there in the human world right now?"

"Only me and Rem, as far as I know. It's not like we call each other or get together for coffee, ya know."

L dropped his wet towel into a hamper and walked to the closet, seeming to pay no attention to Ryuk as he grabbed the next set of clean clothes. "No shinigami tea parties, then? How disappointing." He pulled on his boxers, stretching the waistband as if he wanted them to fit more loosely, and then stepped into his jeans and pulled his shirt over his head as he walked absently through Ryuk into the livingroom area. L then perched in a chair, looking expectantly at the shinigami as Ryuk followed him in.

"You're a strange one." Ryuk observed.

"Yes, I am clearly the strangest one in the room." L deadpanned. "So, how can I motivate another shinigami to come to the human world?"

"Ha! You're kidding me, right?" Staring at L, Ryuk realized he might not be kidding. "Most of those guys are so boring – they just talk about the old days and gamble a lot. Why do you think I came down here?" Ryuk settled on the couch opposite L.

"Boredom. You told me that already. Gambling though . . ." L looked toward the ceiling, thumb stroking his chin. "Do you suppose any of them would gamble with me?"

_Where is he going with this?_ Ryuk marveled. "I doubt it. You don't have anything they would want."

"Well, there is my life." L's tone was light.

"Heh, sure, but they could take that anytime they wanted – they wouldn't have to come down here or win it from you." Ryuk grinned a little wider. "Neither would I, for that matter."

"Yes, yes, you could kill me, we've established that. But I do have something _you_ want." L smiled back at Ryuk. "Entertainment." L leaned forward a bit, still smiling. "Don't you think it would be entertaining to watch a shinigami lose a bet to me?"

For the first time, Ryuk felt the slightest of chills. _Is this guy serious?_ he wondered. "You can't seriously expect a shinigami's gonna lose to you – you're just a human! These guys have been gambling for thousands of years! And even if you _did_ win, there would still be nothing you could do to stop them from killing you anyway."

"Well, that's where you come in."

Ryuk blinked. "Shinigami can't kill each other. It's just not possible."

"Who said anything about killing? You would only need to help persuade the other shinigami not to kill me, and to pay the agreed-upon debt to me."

"Oh, is _that_ all – well, no problem then!" Ryuk couldn't hide his derision. "I still don't see how the promise of gambling with a human would motivate any of the other shinigami to get off their bony asses and come down here."

"Is there some reason I cannot go there?" L's expression seemed almost innocent.

"There?" Ryuk laughed heartily. "Humans can't go to the shinigami world!"

"Why not?"

"They just can't!"

"Well, that hardly seems fair, seeing as you can visit ours . . ." L raised an eyebrow at Ryuk, who was still cackling. "For a death-bringer, you certainly laugh a lot."

"What can I say, stuff is funny." Ryuk blinked back tears. "You should laugh more, it's good for ya."

"Mm, I am told that my laughter is . . . disconcerting."

Ryuk recalled L's smile earlier and guessed that was probably true. "Whatever. I think you're going about this all wrong. Even if you got a shinigami to gamble with you, there's nothing you or I could do to make them part with their Death Note. They'd be too worried about not getting it back – a shinigami without a Death Note wouldn't last long."

L's eyes seemed to light up. "So a Death Note is necessary for a shinigami to live? I suspected as much, but thank you for confirming it."

"Ugh, you know, you don't have to try and trick stuff out of me. Some stuff I'll just tell you if you ask." Ryuk rolled his eyes, leaning back into the cushions.

"Oh, I'm sure," said L, sounding anything but, "however, where's the fun in that?" L mimicked Ryuk's voice and chuckled hollowly.

Ryuk suddenly found himself wondering what sort of shinigami L would make. He knew that Light would make a very efficient shinigami, which would definitely please the King, but L . . . L had the potential to be unpredictable, maybe even scary, which Ryuk found more interesting. To his amazement, Ryuk began to consider the possibility of getting a Death Note to L.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Redirection

Raising his fist to knock on the door one more time, he became distracted by the vibration of his cellphone in his pocket. Grumbling, Light reluctantly grabbed for it, his other hand still covering his nose and mouth due to the now familiar stench emanating from the closed door of L's apartment, a space now closed to him despite it having been his home for months before. He opened the phone with a flick of his wrist. "What is it?"

" . . . Is that you, Light?"

"Yeah, sorry, it's – hang on." Light moved further down the hall where he could breathe more easily. "How's this? Can you hear me better now, Watari?"

"Yes indeed, thank you." Watari sounded as obsequious as ever to Light, but he wondered if he detected amusement in his voice. "I wanted to let you know that Miss Amane is here to see you."

"Right now?" Light clenched his fist, sighing exasperatedly into the phone. "Can you just tell her I'll call her later?"

"I can certainly tell her that, but I doubt that it will satisfy her. She seems eager to speak with you."

_Misa is always eager to speak with me_, Light thought. "Fine. I'll go down and see her soon. Would you mind stalling her for me?"

"Not at all. Is there anything else I can help you with, Light?" Watari sounded earnest.

"Well . . . yeah, actually. Where is Ryuzaki right now?"

"I last saw him entering his apartment. I believe he is in the bathroom."

"Still?" Light had realized that asking Watari anything about L was a longshot, but he wanted to see if there was anything useful he could learn by reading the older man's tone of voice and listening for what he didn't say.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Watari sounded concerned yet resigned. "If his condition continues unabated, I may have to bring in medical assistance to help him."

"Won't that be a breach of security?" Light asked automatically, wondering if there was some way he could turn such a scenario to his advantage.

"Oh no, I wouldn't bring in anyone whom we could not trust. I have numerous reliable contacts for just such a situation. And, of course, a doctor wouldn't need to know any details of what we are trying to accomplish here in order to attend to an eccentric millionaire who loathes hospitals."

"I see." Light felt that Watari's answers were a bit too pat, but he couldn't find a reason to press him on the details. _He's making it sound like this has happened before, even though I've never seen L get sick_, Light thought.

"I understand that you are concerned for him, Light, but we must not allow Ryuzaki's condition to slow the rest of us down." Watari's tone was gentle.

"Yeah, you're right . . . " Light reigned in his scowl as he realized Watari could probably see him. "OK, I'll head down to see Misa in a minute."

"Understood, Light."

Light flipped the phone shut and resigned himself to meeting with Misa. _Why can't she do what I ask instead of coming all the way over here?_ Light wondered. _Her being here will just raise suspicions_. Light reflected that he would have been willing to suffer from digestive distress himself if it meant not having to talk to Misa. Shaking his head ruefully, he pressed the elevator button and prepared to descend.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Pursuit

"I think we're done here."

"Yeah, I guess so." Ide turned back to the nurse he'd been talking to and handed her his card. "If you think of anything . . ."

She yanked the card from his fingers. "_If_ I think of anything, I'll give you a call. Or my supervisor will." She turned on a heel and walked quickly away. Ide's expression was glum, but he watched her retreat with appreciation all the same.

"C'mon!" Aizawa pulled Ide by the arm. "Next hospital we go to, let _me_ do the talking, OK? We're not going to get much information if you pull that again." Aizawa glowered.

"Hey, you said flirting was a valid way to get someone to open up and talk to us."

"That was before I knew how bad you were at it." Aizawa let go of Ide's arm as they walked across the parking lot to their car, opening the doors and getting in.

As if on cue, the already cloudy sky opened up and rain began to beat out a steady rhythm on the roof, making the vehicle seem smaller somehow. The sudden gloom of the day seemed to match Ide's mood as he tried to decide what to say to Aizawa. _He's trusting me to help on the case, with L's permission of all people_, Ide thought; _the least I could do is not screw everything up_. "Aizawa . . ."

"I'm sorry, Ide. I just wanted to make as much progress as possible today. Maybe I'm trying to push through this too fast." Aizawa rubbed the spot where his brow knit together.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I messed things up with that one nurse. She was really cute, and I let myself get overconfident. I should stick to what I know – be the 'suspicious cop' or the 'concerned citizen'. I'll leave the charm to you." Ide smirked and looked over at Aizawa, who laughed.

"Very funny. I don't think I'll be flirting with anyone for information either. If my wife got wind of it . . ." Aizawa smacked his fist into his palm.

"Heh, yeah, gotta watch those fiery tempers." Ide shook his head, grinning. On the one hand, he envied Aizawa for having a relationship, but on the other hand, he was very glad not to be kept on such a short leash.

"You know who would be good at this?" Aizawa's tone was softer as he looked into the rain. "Ukita. He had a real knack for getting people to open up to him. There was this one guy – we had interrogated him for hours, and he wouldn't say a damn thing. Then Ukita goes in with some tea and a bento box . . ." Aizawa was smiling sadly. "He just sits down and gives this guy something to eat and drink, talks to him about his mom, and the guy . . . told him everything. Broke down and spilled his guts because an underpaid cop with a sick mother was willing to share his lunch." Aizawa's hands were gripping the steering wheel, knuckles paling.

Ide reached out hesitantly and touched Aizawa's shoulder. "I miss him too. He was a good guy, and a good cop." Ide had never been as close to Aizawa as Ukita had been, and he still felt a little guilty for being closer friends with him now that Ukita was gone.

"Yeah, yeah he was." Aizawa seemed to be getting his breathing under control.

"Maybe we could try Ukita's approach at the next place – simple kindness." Ide thought aloud.

"With Ukita, there was no approach – that was just how he was."

"Oh." Ide removed his hand, turning to stare at the dashboard.

"But yeah, we could try being friendlier." Aizawa's voice sounded more upbeat as he looked at Ide. "It couldn't hurt, right?"

"Yeah, I guess a couple of sourpusses like us could stand to be nicer." Ide smirked, looking sidelong at Aizawa.

"Hey, speak for yourself!" Aizawa grinned, reaching for the key to start the car.

"You started it." Ide wondered if this sadness was always lurking beneath Aizawa's surface, but resolved not to probe too deeply, if only to respect the other man's grief. "Now be nice to me, or I'll sing to the radio again."

"Ugh – now _that's_ torture!"

As the two men laughed, relieved to have moved past things on which neither of them wanted to dwell, their car pulled out of the hospital parking lot, splashing through a puddle as they reached the road. Neither of them noticed the car that pulled out to follow them.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Heh, OK, just to be clear, this is NOT a slashfic between L and Ryuk, so you can rest easy – unless you were hoping for that, in which case, um, sorry. And there are some complications afoot . . . and more characters I'll be incorporating soon, too.

Now, I'm not one for songfic, and I know that different music works for different people, but there are some songs that have popped in my head while writing some of this – "Riddle" by Lake Trout, "Time to Pretend" by MGMT, "Idle Hands" by The Gutter Twins being a few of them. And "Undone" by Failure always reminds me of Light for some reason. It's not like I have a full-on soundtrack in mind for this, but, well, I like music. ^_^


	5. Can Open, Worms Everywhere

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: The slightest variation in choices can make all the difference. L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Finding even part of it could be a turning point . . . Slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 5: Can Open, Worms Everywhere

Plans & Permutations

"Oh, this is ridiculous . . ."

"Misa?" Light spoke as he emerged from the elevator, and Misa turned away from her pouting reflection in the glass and the rain pounding beyond it to let out a squeal.

"Light!" She ran up and had her arms around him before he had been able to take more than 5 steps from the elevator doors, which were now closing.

"Jeez Misa, you act like I didn't just see you yesterday." Light peeled her hands off of him and held them in his own.

"Aww, I know, but . . . I missed you!" Misa jumped in place, squeezing Light's hands. "Misa always misses you every second we're apart."

Light seemed to sigh, lowering his eyes to look into hers. "It's just that this isn't the best time."

"Huh? Why? What's wrong?"

"Hey, where's Ryuk?" Light's eyes scanned the lobby, his head remaining still. "He's supposed to be with you."

"Oh, him? Misa told him to go away. He was being mean. Plus, he's always trying to peek at Misa in the shower – big, mean, smelly shinigami!" Misa's face crumpled into a frown.

"Misa, he doesn't smell like anything, you know that. And I doubt that he's peeking at you in the shower."

"You don't even believe me? What kind of boyfriend are you?" Misa pulled her hands away from Light and folded her arms, not noticing when Light wiped his hands on his pants.

"A confused one. I know I called you, but I don't know why you came over here. I mean, you're doing what I asked you to, right?" Light's tone was even.

"Of course I am! I'm not stupid – I'm sticking to the plan, just like you said! I just . . . wanted to see you." Misa stared at the floor, feeling dejected. "Is it so wrong to want to see your own boyfriend?"

Light reached out to grip Misa's shoulders with both hands, causing her to look up into his eyes. "No, of course not. It's just that . . . this has been kind of a weird day."

"I know, right?" Misa gestured at the window behind her. "It was a beautiful sunny morning when Misa got up, and now look at it! I totally didn't even think to bring an umbrella with me!"

Light dropped his hands to his sides. _Right, that's not stupid at all_, he thought. "Well, I guess you're going to have to wait here for now. If the rain doesn't let up soon, I'll see if anyone here has an umbrella you can borrow." Light took a step back.

"Aren't you going to wait with me?" Misa blinked, her expression wistful.

"Well sure," Light said, thinking _I guess I am now_. "Why don't we sit over here?" Light gestured open-handed toward a low wall with built-in planters.

"OK!" Misa clasped her hands together and skipped over to sit by Light's side. Once seated, she slipped a hand into Light's. "Rain's so depressing when you're alone, but when you're with someone you love, it's really romantic!"

Light looked out the window, thinking that perhaps the reverse was true. "Yeah." He squeezed her hand in case she noticed his tone, and she squeezed back, then resting her head on his shoulder with a sigh. Sometimes Light wished that he felt the same way she did, if not about Misa then at least about _someone_. The idea of finding comfort in the smallest things was appealing in some ways. But he always shook himself back to reality, acknowledging that to feel such a way about anyone for any reason was inconvenient at best, and life threatening at worst. He simply couldn't afford to risk it. Nothing was so important as the task he had set for himself, to make a better world. Everything, and everyone, depended on it. Love was a luxury for those whom he was saving.

"Misa . . ."

"Mmm . . . ?"

"Since you're here now anyway, I should tell you . . . I might need to ask you to do something for me after all. It's not a sure thing yet, but—"

"Oh Light! Anything you want, you know I'll do it! What is it?" Misa looked up, her face close to his, eyes dewy.

Light leaned in close to Misa's ear, making sure his face was angled away from the cameras. "Remember how I said I had a plan so you didn't have to remember Ryuzaki's real name?" he whispered.

"Uh-huh, sure!" Misa covered her mouth, as if only just realizing she should whisper too.

"If that plan ends up not working, I may need to find a way to get you to see his face again so you can tell me his name." Light hated admitting that he needed her, but he'd known when he called her that this was how he might have to proceed in order to win.

"Wow, one of your plans not working, no way!" Even Misa's whisper seemed loud.

"Well, it's just a contingency plan. You probably—"

"It's OK, Light!" Misa interrupted. "Your plan won't fail, but even if it does, it just means you're human after all!" Misa seemed gleeful, as though Light's humanity had been in doubt before now. "And besides, you've already thought of a back-up plan to your back-up plan – how awesome is that?" As counterpoint to her hushed words, Misa clapped her hands together, making Light wince. "So, are you gonna smuggle Misa upstairs?" Misa looked positively thrilled at the idea.

"No no, that's impossible – there are too many cameras everywhere." Light moved closer, his lips brushing her ear, and spoke even more softly. "I'm going to try and re-route one of the camera feeds to my phone so I can capture an image of Ryuzaki's face. I can't just take a picture, since he'd notice that. As long as I can get an image of him, even if it's not a live feed, you'd still be able to see his name, right?"

"Oh yeah! Totally!" Misa bounced in her seat.

"Then that's what I'll want you to do, just tell me his name after I send the image to you. This is only if my other plan doesn't work, though, so you'll have to wait for my call. I'll let you know this plan is on by using a code word."

"OK! A code word, oooh, that's kind of exciting!"

"Yeah. This is the word, so remember it." Light leaned in once more, repeating the code as quietly as he could before leaning back again. "Got it?"

"Yes! That's so cool-sounding." Misa beamed. "Hey, where are you going?" she asked, looking up as Light stood.

"To go get you an umbrella." Light said in a normal voice. "This storm's obviously not going to let up anytime soon, and you can't spend all day here." To Misa's immediate pout, he said "You have a photoshoot later, right?"

"Oh! That's right. OK . . ." Misa stood and kissed Light on the cheek, oblivious to his lack of response. "I'll wait right here, Light."

"I'll be back down soon, Misa." Light walked away and pressed his palm against the panel by the elevator and let the retina scanner shine into his eye. When the system beeped, he pushed the elevator button and the doors opened for him. He stepped through the doors, gave a slight wave to Misa, and watched as the doors enclosed him. "Finally."

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Twisting

"Thank you for agreeing to see me."

"Did I really have a choice?" The impeccably dressed man with long dark hair arched an eyebrow as he leaned back in his seat.

"We all have choices, Namikawa." Soichiro sat opposite the other man at the table in the small conference room.

"I don't wish to seem ungracious, considering the agreement I made with L, but am I to be at the beck and call of the NPA whenever they feel the need?"

"Well, considering the deal _L_ made with _you_," Soichiro emphasized, glowering slightly, "you are lucky not to be in jail, or dead for that matter." Soichiro took a deep breath. "But I am not here on behalf of the NPA. L himself asked that I speak with you."

Namikawa raised both eyebrows. "Now we're getting somewhere. Fine then. What did you want to discuss?"

"I assume you've been watching the news. Did you hear about the 16 criminals who died of heart attacks?"

"Yes, I wondered about that. If Higuchi was Kira, the killings would have stopped when he oh-so-conveniently died in custody . . ."

"I assure you, nothing was convenient about Higuchi's death." Soichiro grumbled.

"Well, it certainly saved the government the time and money it would have cost to put him on trial, and keep him in jail until his execution." Namikawa sounded bored.

"This wasn't reported in the news either," Soichiro began, playing his first real card, "but Higuchi died on the street in front of us. Of a heart attack." He looked into Namikawa's eyes as they grew wide.

"But . . . that would mean that Higuchi wasn't Kira!"

"No, it means –"

"You came here to accuse me?" Namikawa's eyes flashed anger, disrupting his normally calm façade. "I have not killed anyone! I will not sit here and be –"

"Sit down!" _So much for a friendly conversation_, Soichiro thought. "I'm not accusing you of anything. Higuchi was definitely Kira – we have the proof. But there has always been two of them, and the second one hasn't been caught yet."

Namikawa reluctantly reclaimed his seat, eyes narrowed. "I see. So you think that the second Kira killed Higuchi." He balanced his elbow on the edge of the table and propped his chin on the thumb of his fist. "That's very intriguing, but I don't see how I can help you."

"We believe that the two Kiras were in contact." Soichiro didn't want to reveal the possibility that Kira's power could be passed to someone else, let alone any details concerning the Death Note or the shinigami. Even if Namikawa didn't laugh him out of the room at such a notion, there was still a chance that the information could leak to the press, and the last thing Soichiro wanted was to incite panic. "We need to know who Higuchi spent time with. We already know about his mother and sister . . ."

Namikawa laughed. "He stopped speaking to them years ago, or so he said. I'm guessing they actually stopped speaking to him, but that's just hearsay. If he had any friends, I never heard about them. Higuchi was not well-liked at Yotsuba. He had actually been demoted once, before we began the secret Kira meetings." He paused, brow furrowing. "It seems strange that he waited so long to use his power to benefit his career. And killing criminals – I'm surprised Higuchi cared about that at all."

"From what we can tell, the killing of criminals may have been part of some pact between the first and second Kiras. Higuchi varied from that when some of his killings started to benefit Yotsuba." Soichiro hated to lie, but he had to improvise in order to keep Namikawa on track. "When Higuchi's actions drew attention to himself, allowing L to set a trap for him . . ."

"The second Kira had to act, killing him before he could confess all he knew." Namikawa finished the sentence, nodding his head. "Of course. And so you came here because you have no other leads on this second Kira? I have to say I'm surprised."

"The leads we had led nowhere, unfortunately. Which is why we're looking into any connections relating to Higuchi. He was clearly in contact with the second Kira, but the evidence at his home and his office turned up no clear link to this person." Soichiro sighed. "Did he belong to a gym? Was there a bar he liked to frequent?"

"Hmph – I doubt he went to a gym. You would have found papers on his membership if he did anyway. As to bars," Namikawa absently toyed with the cuff of his shirt, "I don't know for sure, but Higuchi seemed more of the 'drinks alone' type."

"Did you notice any suspicious interactions he had with any co-workers?"

"Other than our little meetings? No, not really. Unless you count barking at his assistants for mistakes he'd made himself." Namikawa smirked.

"Hmm. Did his behavior change noticeably once the secret meetings started?" Soichiro regarded Namikawa thoughtfully.

"Not significantly." Namikawa stared at the ceiling for a moment. "We were all shaken by that. I would say that he started to seem somewhat more . . . confident, starting around the time of the second meeting. It makes sense – I imagine he would have been concerned about whether his little plan would go well, but when we all fell in line," Namikawa grimaced, "he relaxed. But he was the same disagreeable person he'd always been."

_This is going nowhere_, Soichiro thought. "What about vacations – where did he like to go? Did he ever have any accidents?" He felt like he was grasping at straws.

"Well, I know he liked to gamble, and he enjoyed the beach, primarily for viewing its female occupants," Namikawa rolled his eyes, "but it's interesting you mentioned accidents. He was in a bad car accident a few years ago – this was before he got the promotion that was subsequently taken from him, and before he started collecting cars. He spent several weeks in intensive care and spoke quite highly of one of the nurses who'd attended him. Higuchi paying anyone a compliment is a rare enough occasion to be memorable." He looked to the side, still in thought. "Unfortunately I can't recall the nurse's name. Apparently she was blonde. And I believe the hospital was St. Luke's. Does that help?"

"I'm not sure, but it may be worth checking out." Soichiro sighed, reluctantly standing to leave. "Thank you. If you think of anything else . . ."

"I'll call you." Namikawa stood and bowed slightly.

"I'd appreciate that." Soichiro bowed in return, and turned to face the door.

"By the way, Chief Yagami, how do the Kiras kill?" Namikawa's offhand lilt stopped Soichiro in his tracks.

"I can't tell you that. It's classified." Soichiro fixed Namikawa with a stern look over the rim of his glasses, still half-turned toward the door.

"Classified by whom?" Namikawa seemed almost bemused.

"By L, of course."

"Hm. Pity. It would have been interesting to know."

"Knowing doesn't help, trust me." Soichiro's expression was bleak as he opened the door. "I'll be in touch. In the meantime, be careful." He exited without another look back.

Namikawa's expression changed and some color drained from his face as Soichiro's last sentence sunk in. _Of course_, Namikawa thought, _the rest of us could be targeted by the second Kira for helping Higuchi!_ Resentment washed over him as he watched the older man's retreating back, but he consciously let go of the feeling. Namikawa knew it was his own fault for having agreed to attend the secret meetings in the first place. None of them had known what they were getting into – except for Higuchi, of course, and he had already paid with his life – but that didn't excuse them. Namikawa felt that there were too many pieces of the puzzle missing for him to put all of it together, but if their lives were in danger from another Kira, he would have to find a way. He pulled his cell from his jacket pocket as he closed the door.

"Mido? We need to meet – all of us. Not at the company, but somewhere secure."

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Cake vs. Apple

The unceremonious clank caught their attention.

"What the hell is that? Someone spying on _you_?"

"Unlikely." L stepped down from his perch and walked to a bumped-out span of wall that looked like it might house ductwork or a column. Crooking his fingers around the edge of the front right corner, L swung a hidden door open toward him. "Ah, excellent." L reached into the space beyond, Ryuk looking on with curiosity, and emerged holding a large tray laden with a cake and a basket of apples. L had always liked dumbwaiters back when he was at Wammy's House, and he was glad that his design whim for the new building had come in handy. L turned, holding the tray firmly.

Ryuk's eyes lit up immediately. "Now we're talkin'!"

L set the tray on the table between them and tossed the slavering shinigami an apple. "Why do you like them so much?"

"Huh?" Ryuk chomped down the apple, core and all. "I dunno, they're just so juicy! They're great, that's all – why does there have to be a reason?"

"Everything has a reason." L was ogling his cake, which was covered with thick cream icing, drizzled with chocolate, caramel, and raspberry syrup, and festooned with strawberries, sliced kiwi, and chunks of mango. Watari always made sure there was something special about his birthday cakes, belated or not, and L silently thanked the man as he began to slice it.

"OK then, why do you like cake?"

L tore his eyes from his task briefly, regarding Ryuk with some surprise. "Cake is the best food available. To humans," he amended, not wanting Ryuk to suddenly switch his culinary allegiance. "It's not juicy, but the contrast in flavors and textures between the cake itself and the icing, not to mention any fruit or candy decorating it, merges together in a delicious symphony of sweetness. It is quite pleasing." L closed his eyes as his lips closed around his first forkful of the 3-layer cake. "Mmm . . . banana, strawberry, and chocolate . . ."

"Wow, you're really into it. Maybe I should taste it." Ryuk leaned forward.

"Absolutely not." L's beatific expression was gone. "Do you not like apples anymore?" L moved the basket away from Ryuk with one finger.

"Hey now, I never said that. Can't blame a guy for askin', right?"

L continued to watch Ryuk with some suspicion, but relented by tossing him another apple, which Ryuk caught in both hands. L tilted his head. "It's more than a liking, isn't it? It's an addiction."

Ryuk didn't pause in devouring the apple, but eventually answered. "Yeah, I guess it is. But I could say the same thing to you."

"Hm." L chewed thoughtfully, his face free of emotion as the cake seemed to lose some of its sweetness. L wasn't surprised by the accusation – he'd heard it before, and he understood his relationship with sweets all too well. But he hated being reminded of his weaknesses, and he loathed the idea of being manipulated as a consequence of them. "I suppose. Would you like some cake?"

"What? Wait – first you say no, then you say yes? What are you, teasing me or something?"

L sighed. "If I were teasing you, I would have said yes and _then_ no. Aside from the fact that I have no reason to tease you, I simply reconsidered my earlier answer. It makes perfect sense that you'd be curious about something you'd never experienced." L cut another slice of cake. "Do you want to try some or not?"

"Eh . . ." Ryuk peered at the cake as though it might be poisonous. "You know what, no thanks. I don't need to be addicted to more than one thing. Not that anything could be better than apples."

"If you say so." L lobbed another apple at Ryuk's head while pulling the new slice toward himself, amused yet relieved by the shinigami's decision. Downing the last of the first slice, he stabbed the new slice with his fork, relishing the return of the sweetness. "Tell me about the games of the shinigami, Ryuk."

Chuckling, Ryuk said through apple bits, "I don't play much, but I can tell you the rules. Not that that'll help you much."

"Helpful or not, I want to know." L licked his lips, waiting.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Maybe Ryuk would feel differently about apple cake, heh. I'm headed out of town for just under a week, so my next update may take a bit longer. In the meantime, I added genre and character information to my story specs, in case people search using those things. I'm still handwriting first and typing/editing second, so my drafts are a few chapters ahead. So far, I'm having fun with this, so I hope you are too – thanks to everyone who's reading!


	6. State of Play

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: The slightest variation in choices can make all the difference. L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Finding even part of it could be a turning point . . . Slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 6: State of Play

Purpose

"He still isn't –"

"How's Misa-Misa?" Matsuda called brightly to Light as he emerged from the elevator.

"She's fine, but she forgot her umbrella." Light stalked forward, looking around.

"Oh no – it really is a crummy day out there now, isn't it? Too bad. I'm sure you two would have loved to go for a walk in the park or something." Matsuda said wistfully.

"Yeah . . ." Light looked as though he would rather swallow glass.

"I have an extra umbrella, Light. I'll get it for you." Mogi rose and headed for his quarters, looking somewhat regretfully at the work he had yet to do.

"Wow, you have an extra one, Mogi? I'm always forgetting mine." Matsuda said to Mogi's retreating back, not really expecting an answer. "Are you OK, Light? You look sorta worried."

"Worried?" Light's features swiftly transformed into an expression of light amusement. "Well, my girlfriend's stuck with no umbrella and a photoshoot to get to, but I wouldn't call that a worry, especially now that that's about to be solved."

Matsuda nodded his head, unconvinced but unwilling to argue the point. "Oh, OK."

"Has Ryuzaki been gone all this time?" Light put his hand on his hip.

_That again?_ Matsuda thought. "Um, yeah. He must be really sick. It's surprising it hasn't happened before."

"Yeah, surprising . . ." Light trailed off, walking toward Rem and then walking back toward Matsuda, pacing like a caged animal.

"Maybe the stress of trying to catch Kira is finally getting to him." Matsuda mused aloud. "I mean, Ryuzaki doesn't really show his emotions, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel any. Plus, he doesn't sleep much, so between that and all the sweets he eats . . ."

"It isn't stress, and it's not his diet. That's not how he is." Light cut Matsuda off dismissively. "I'm going to go find him." Light started walking toward the hallway.

"Oh, just leave him alone!" Matsuda's sharp tone surprised Light enough to get him to stop and look back at him. "The guy's sick! Haven't you ever been sick before? You can't do anything – your body just betrays you, and you're useless until you get better. If Ryuzaki doesn't get better, we're screwed! Leave him in peace for awhile – at least he was able to get us started on a bunch of stuff." Matsuda's outburst rang in his own ears, leaving him feeling deflated.

"The same stuff you called 'busywork' earlier?" Light evenly pointed out.

"Ugh, you heard that?" Matsuda blushed. "I was just frustrated because I'm not as good a worker as Mogi. Or any of you, really." Matsuda dropped his eyes.

"Speaking of Mogi, he should be back by now." Light's eyes narrowed as he looked away.

Noticing that Light had said nothing to contradict his last statement, Matsuda said, "Man, you're impatient today."

Light glared at Matsuda. "Well, I might be less impatient if Ryuzaki had actually given me something to do."

"So _that's_ what it is!" Matsuda brightened considerably. "Don't worry, Light – he wasn't leaving you out! He probably just figured you would find the best thing to focus on yourself. You guys are on the same level – he doesn't have to tell you what to do." Despite what he'd just said, Matsuda felt no rancor.

Light sighed. "Maybe. I don't know." Light's eyes drifted sideways to meet Matsuda's. "I think he left me out because he still suspects me."

"Well, Ryuzaki is pretty stubborn. But it's like he said – it can't hurt to have more evidence proving you're not Kira! And he let you off the chain and still works with you, so he can't suspect you that much."

"What if he wanted to make it look like I am Kira, even though I'm not? He's smart enough to be able to fabricate credible evidence against me if he wanted to – he could be doing that right now . . ."

"What? He wouldn't do that, Light." Matsuda's eyes were wide as he contemplated the thought. "In fact, it'd be pretty stupid to do that anyway, since the killings would just continue. Plus, you'd find a way to prove him wrong." Matsuda gripped his chin, his face scrunching in thought. "You know, I think he may have been complimenting you."

Light reared back slightly. "Complimenting?"

"Yeah – because if you really were Kira, you'd have to be a bigger genius than Ryuzaki to keep it from him and the rest of us for all this time." Matsuda smiled. "So if he suspects you, it's a compliment!"

"That's . . . kind of a weird way to compliment someone, Matsuda."

"Well, Ryuzaki's kind of a weird guy."

"Yeah, that's true."

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Moving Pieces

"Yes, I see. That is good to hear. I . . . no, no, there are just a few more things before –" Watari paused, holding the receiver slightly apart from his ear as Wedy expressed some apparent displeasure. "I realize that, but I assure you it is necessary." Watari tried not to sigh into the phone. "You are being more than adequately compensated for these tasks, are you not?" He took the brief silence on the line as assent. "At least one of the tasks to come is more complicated than the others, so that should provide you with suitable diversion, _and_ you should be able to complete everything relatively quickly." Watari though Wedy sounded more mollified. "Yes. Yes, once you complete the task I've just described, you will find instructions for the next one. I cannot go over them with you right now, as they are quite detailed."

Edging his chair forward, Watari did not let his eyes leave the screen in front of him. He needed to be ready, and he needed to finish the phone conversation, but Wedy had one more question. "Ah, unfortunately I cannot connect you with him. He is in a . . . delicate situation at the moment. He will no doubt contact you himself once things have progressed. Yes, of course. Thank you." Watari shut his cellphone with a faint clap.

To a certain extent, Watari wished that L had not chosen to exclude Aiber from the current proceedings, though he understood why. Wedy was slightly more difficult, but her skills were excellent and more aptly fit what L needed to have done than those of the more affable con man. Limiting resources where possible was necessary, and Watari understood this fully, but he would have much preferred to have been conversing with Aiber. _Can't be helped_, Watari thought, sipping his tea.

On the screens before him, Light paced in the main HQ room, watched by Matsuda and Rem, L conversed with Ryuk in the secret apartment upstairs, Misa waited alone in the lobby, and Mogi . . . _where is Mogi?_ Watari wondered. Watari had just seen him minutes before in his quarters, retrieving an umbrella, but he did not see him now. Scanning all of the monitors for a sign of the burly man, Watari started scrolling through the different camera views, wondering if Mogi had wandered into one of the new blind spots he'd arranged for L. It was possible.

Watari wasn't worried that Mogi was working against L, although one could never be too sure about anyone. He was somewhat concerned that Mogi might notice something amiss regarding the cameras, and if he mentioned this in the presence of Light . . . Watari shook his head. _Nothing is noticeably out of place_, he thought; _the changes are difficult to see even when one knows where to look_. Watari went over every new blind spot and observation point in his mind, ruling each one out as a possibility as he continued to scan the monitors.

Something caught Watari's eye, in a hall close to the main HQ room. _A shadow?_

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Rumination

The more they talked, the less she liked them, but this was no surprise. Having observed human behavior for quite some time now, Rem knew that humans never failed to disappoint, never failed to fail. Only Misa had ever inspired sympathy in Rem, although at this point she felt more guilt than anything else. When Gelus had died saving Misa's life, Rem had felt that his notebook belonged to Misa. Rem had hoped that Misa might use it to help herself, to stay safe. However, staying safe was not in Misa's nature, it seemed, and Rem realized now that possessing a Death Note only magnified the dangers in Misa's life. There was no undoing the decisions Rem had already made. She could only try to protect Misa now, even if it might eventually cost Rem her life.

Light had never made his entire plan clear to Rem, but following his discussion with the human they called 'Ryuzaki', Rem had started to think that Light had intended for her to write that man's true name in her Death Note, thus extending Misa's life and cutting off her own. Though Rem was willing to sacrifice herself, feeling that she owed Misa that much for the mistake of making her life worse, she did not like the idea of leaving Misa at Light's mercy, particularly if this had been his plan all along.

Rem had been contemplating killing the entire Task Force as she had sat listening to them bicker over the case. The flaw in that plan was that she might die before writing all of their names. She could try starting with the names of those least likely to negatively impact Misa's lifespan, but if she guessed wrong, she might die before eliminating the biggest threats to Misa. Ryuzaki, or L, seemed to be the biggest threat, since he still seemed to suspect that Misa was the second Kira, but Light was nearly as much of a threat, possibly more. _If only Misa did not love Light_, Rem thought bitterly. She felt that he was the worst person for whom Misa could have fallen – it was almost as though it was the danger itself to which Misa was drawn. If she could not kill them all, or decide who posed the greater danger, Rem wondered if she could find a way to throw suspicion off of Misa.

_The only reason I went along with Light's plan was because he promised to protect Misa_, Rem thought, _but if his plan includes eliminating me, he could easily hurt and even kill her with no repercussions once I am gone and he has no more use for her_. Rem was no longer willing to simply trust Light or go along with any new plan he devised, but she realized that if she suddenly deviated from her current behavior and allowed Light to recognize her change in view, she could put Misa in even greater danger. Rem glanced at the monitor that showed Misa downstairs alone, staring into the rain outside. And here was Light, pacing within the warmth and safety of HQ, worrying about anything but Misa. Rem did not believe that she could trick Light, but if she could somehow influence the others, possibly getting them to suspect him without suspecting Misa . . .

Rem was not sure how she would proceed, but she resolved to observe them and use whatever opportunities presented themselves. It was fortunate that Light was reluctant to approach her for the time being, and that he was focused on L. Rem hoped that this would allow her to act without his knowledge, however briefly. She would watch, and she would learn. Rem tried not to be impatient. The Task Force did not yet seem to be closing in on Misa, so she had time to choose her actions.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Umbrella

He couldn't quite explain why he was still standing there, listening. He wasn't even sure why he'd paused. But he continued to stand in the hallway, just out of sight, umbrella clutched in one hand, hearing Light bait Matsuda. Or try to bait Matsuda, anyway. A sly smile crossed Mogi's face. Matsuda could be irrepressibly optimistic.

Mogi hadn't felt like waiting for the elevator just to go up a few floors, so he had taken the stairs. When he had returned with the umbrella, he'd approached HQ and heard Light say "I might be less impatient if Ryuzaki had actually given me something to do." And Mogi had just . . . stopped there, on some implacable instinct. He had started to feel silly and had been about to move forward when Light had gone on to suggest that L might frame Light as Kira with false evidence, at which point Mogi had felt something he hadn't felt toward Light before: suspicion.

L's methods were frequently unorthodox, Mogi knew this, but to frame an innocent person for multiple murders? While Mogi couldn't rule it out completely, he felt that it was an extremely unlikely course of action for L. Though Mogi prided himself on his thoroughness and hard work, he knew that instinct could be critical to being a good cop. "Sometimes, you've just got to trust your gut" Aizawa had said to him once, and Mogi knew he was right. His gut told him something was wrong. _Why would Light say something like that except to throw suspicion on L?_ Mogi thought; _he knows better than all of us that that's not something L would do_.

His gut also told him that it was getting past lunchtime – quite loudly, in fact. Realizing that his stomach growl must have been heard in HQ, Mogi moved forward, trying to make it seem as though he'd just been walking toward the room without stopping as he entered. Even Rem was looking at him, since the noise had occurred during a lull in the conversation.

Mogi blushed slightly. "Guess it's about time for lunch." He nodded toward Matsuda, ignoring Light's narrowed eyes.

"Whoa, it really is that late!" Matsuda goggled at his watch.

"Here's the umbrella for Misa, Light." Mogi handed it to him. "I hope it's not too heavy for her."

Light gripped the umbrella, not looking at it. "I'm sure it'll be fine." Light wondered how much Mogi had heard before entering from the hallway, but decided it didn't really matter. _I didn't say anything incriminating_, Light thought; _not that these two would have noticed if I had_.

"Well, it's my turn to get lunch. Should we get sushi again, or kabobs, or maybe sandwiches?" Matsuda was standing and putting his jacket on.

"Isn't Watari bringing food?" Light asked.

"Huh? Don't you remember – we talked about pitching in and getting our own lunches awhile ago so that Watari wouldn't have to do everything. It was right before we caught Higuchi." Matsuda raised an eyebrow.

"Oh right, I forgot." Light didn't remember any such conversation, but it sounded like the kind of thing he would have tuned out anyway. Not to mention the fact that his now-returned old memories overshadowed some of the newer ones. He had more important things to think about.

"So, what should I get, guys?"

After a long pause, Mogi finally spoke up. "Sandwiches would be good. Maybe something meaty, with hot sauce."

"Sandwiches it is!" Matsuda exclaimed. "I know just the place, too." Suddenly Matsuda's face fell. "Ugh, it's still raining pretty hard out there, isn't it – I haven't found my umbrella from last time . . ."

Mogi sighed. "I'll go get my other one."

"No no! It's OK – I can buy one once I go out."

"You'll be soaked by then, Matsuda."

"Actually . . ." Light interrupted, trying not to smile. "You could bring this umbrella down to Misa and then walk with her until you can get to a store that sells umbrellas. Then you can go get lunch."

"But . . . don't you want to bring the umbrella down to Misa yourself? She's waiting for you . . ." Matsuda looked over at the forlorn blonde shown on one of the screens.

"It's OK. Just tell her I needed to work on something, and that I asked her to go with you. She'll do it." Light handed the umbrella to Matsuda.

"Well, OK then." Matsuda didn't doubt that Misa would do as Light asked, but he knew that she would feel disappointed seeing him instead of the man she loved. "I'll be back soon." Matsuda grabbed his coat and headed for the elevator. "Hey wait – what sandwiches do you guys want?"

"Just get a variety of them." Light spoke without turning around, facing the monitors instead. "And no mayonnaise."

"Sure, no problem." Matsuda shrugged his coat on, passing the umbrella from hand to hand, and briefly considered asking for mayonnaise on every sandwich. The elevator dinged and its doors spread open to swallow him.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Details, Details

She stared at the tiny device in disbelief. Not because she doubted what it could do, but because of what she had been asked to do. _Oh, this'll be challenging alright, and not a little unethical_, Wedy thought.

Having been a thief for years, Wedy was rather excellent at removing things from secure buildings – she enjoyed doing so, in fact. Sneaking in and out of places where no one was supposed to be, some of them even places into which no human had ever entered, was a point of pride and a source of fun for her. But sneaking something . . . into a _person_, into someone's body – that was new. Wedy had attached tracking devices to people before, but she'd never had to cut flesh to do it.

"What the fuck, Watari." Wedy knew that the device had likely been designed by Watari himself. It was too tiny to be picked up by hand, so Wedy left it in its case, not wanting to drop it on the carpet.

_So all I have to do is find Misa Amane and insert this thing under her skin without her knowing it and without her being able to detect it later_, Wedy thought; _gee, no problem_. Wedy shook her head. She'd had no trouble installing the cameras in Misa's apartment, or stealing from it later. She was used to those kinds of things. In the limited time she'd been acquainted with Misa, she hadn't liked her much, so she knew it wasn't an emotional connection getting in her way. Wedy supposed she was balking not just at the physical invasiveness of what she was being asked to do, but at the implication of what more she might _be_ asked to do, how far she might have to go. Theft was her life, her passion. Slicing people open was not.

Wedy considered calling Watari back and telling him to shove it. _If only that would get a rise out of him_, Wedy smirked to herself. He hadn't been wrong about the instructions being detailed, at least. She held the sheaf of papers in front of her, wishing she could throw them away. The package they'd been in had arrived shortly after her conversation with Watari, so he'd obviously prepared everything well in advance. Wedy wondered if he and L had considered this option while Misa was still in custody. _If they thought of that before, they should have put it in then_, Wedy thought, scowling. She supposed she was actually going to have to read the instructions.

As she set the papers next to the open box on the hotel room desk, she noticed one more item. _This'll help, but it'll still be a pain_, she thought. Wedy started reading, some things eventually falling into place.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Unexpected Interactions

"What do you _mean_, he's not coming? Why are you keeping him from me?"

"I-it's not like that! He wanted to come down himself, it's just that he's got so much work to do!" Matsuda was flustered in the face of Misa's rage, even though he had anticipated her feelings and sympathized.

"That Ryuzaki – he's working Light too hard!" Misa's perfect little pout then turned into something more like a sneer. "I see _you_ had enough time to come down."

"Hey! I have work to do too!" Matsuda flushed slightly. "It's just my turn to get lunch anyway."

"So we have to share an umbrella because you don't even have one?"

"You didn't have one either; that's why I brought you Mogi's." Matsuda saw Misa's expression turn to hurt and felt worse. "Here, it's OK – just take it," he said, handing the umbrella to Misa. "I don't mind if I get wet. See you, Misa." Matsuda moved toward the glass doors, raising the collar of his coat and buttoning the top button.

Misa's eyes watered as she watched Matsuda. She knew it wasn't his fault that Light hadn't come back down to see her. She even liked Matsuda a bit, thinking of him as the goofy older brother she'd never had. _Maybe that's why I pick on him_, Misa thought, _but then again,_ _everyone picks on poor Matsu_ . . .

"Wait!" Misa rushed up to Matsuda. "I'm sorry, Matsu – Misa was just really hoping to see Light again."

"I know. It's OK." The resignation in Matsuda's eyes was supplanted by mild surprise, which grew when Misa opened the umbrella. "Misa-Misa! It's bad luck to open an umbrella indoors!"

Misa giggled and punched Matsuda's arm with her free hand. "Don't be silly! Misa just wanted to make sure we both stay dry." She looped her arm through his and moved closer so that the umbrella would cover them both, hoping that Light was watching and maybe getting jealous. "C'mon, let's go get lunch."

"Here, I can hold that." Matsuda took the umbrella from her, holding it higher and trying not to blush. "Anyway, you only need to go with me to a store so I can get my own umbrella. You don't have to help me get lunch."

"Misa doesn't mind! I'm hungry too, you know, and Misa hates eating alone."

"Oh, um, well, OK," Matsuda stammered, pushing open one of the glass doors. "I hope you're in the mood for sandwiches then, ha ha . . ." Matsuda's nervous laughter trailed off as the rain beat down on the umbrella, creating a curtain of water and sound around them as they stepped away from the shelter of the building.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Oh Matsuda, you are sort of the Hurley of Death Note, aren't you? Or a cross between Hurley of LOST and Curly of the Three Stooges . . . ^_^ And yes, for the record, Misa annoys the fuck out of me. And if you didn't notice, I had the umbrella be a sort of baton to pass the PoV from one character to another – not sure how often I'll do that, but it was a fun idea to play with.

I do have a basic plot arc in mind, by the way, but I am basically letting the characters dictate where this goes. They all have their own motivations and personality quirks, and even being a genius can't prevent someone from being surprised. I'm having fun writing this – I hope you guys are having fun reading it.


	7. Games & Bells

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: The slightest variation in choices can make all the difference. L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Finding even part of it could be a turning point . . . Slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 7: Games & Bells

Questioning Play

The huddled figures moved down the steps as one under a black dome, mismatched sets of feet splashing along, eventually exceeding the range of the front entrance cameras. The sound of the rain did not penetrate inside any more than the water did, but somehow the feeling soaked through. Tapping on keyboards and grumbling were the only noises filling HQ.

Light suppressed a growl and clenched his fists, pausing for a moment. _Dammit_, he thought, _I'm going to have to find another way in_. As good at hacking into systems as he was, he did not have the advantage here. He was certain that L was up to something, and it was likely that Watari was helping him, but Light needed to know what L's plan was. Even a single clue would help – a hidden video feed, or perhaps a document or a recorded conversation between them. Light knew that he hadn't given L much time to think, let alone act, but he didn't want to underestimate his opponent. _Not again_, Light thought, grimacing.

Glancing briefly at Mogi, Light thought, _At least it's quiet_. He wished the others were more like Mogi, working steadily and silently, just doing a good job without interjecting their pointless opinions or complaining. _Set him to a task and leave him alone_, Light thought, _like a good little worker bee, so buried in what he's doing he'd never notice if a bomb went off next to him_. Light smiled, ready to return to his own task.

Movement caught Light's eye, and he turned to it, one hand still hovering over the keyboard. With a start, he realized that Rem had phased partway through a wall. _Is she trying to leave?_ Light wondered, shocked.

"Where are you going?" Light blurted out. He silently cursed the shinigami for surprising him into an outburst.

Rem regarded Light coolly, tearing her eyes away from the monitor where Misa and Matsuda had just disappeared. "I am not going anywhere."

"It looked like you were leaving the room." Light said in a low voice.

"I may leave the room if I choose, as long as I stay close to the Death Note." Rem remained half-buried in the wall, protruding like an ornate and bizarre coat rack.

"Oh, really." _So she's still playing along_, Light thought. _Good._ He decided it was time to test her. _And if Mogi's actually paying attention to this, that'll work out in my favor anyway_. "How far can you go from the notebook?"

Rem's eye burned toward Light. "Not far. I've never measured. When I feel its pull, I return."

"Then when you dropped it in the human world, you had to follow it."

"Yes."

Light noticed that Mogi had stopped typing and his head was angled slightly toward them. Light smirked. "Well, that's good. At least that means there aren't a whole bunch of these notebooks just lying around waiting to be found, since a shinigami would have to stay near every one of them. How many other shinigami are in the human world now?"

"As I said before, I do not know. There must be at least one other, since, as _you_ said, there seems to be someone using a Death Note somewhere in the human world."

"I see. Thank you, shinigami." Light turned back to face his computer and noticed that Mogi was working in silence again. _That went well enough_, Light thought. Not only did Rem still seem to be playing ball, but Light had managed to make it seem like he was questioning her, as L would have. _I may still be able to get her on my side_, Light thought, _but it can't hurt to have my back-up plan ready to roll_. He flexed his fingers and began typing again.

Mogi's fingers flew over the keyboard, as if trying to make up for time lost while he'd been distracted. Ignoring the shinigami, who seemed content to remain embedded in the wall, and Light's resumed grumbling, he tried to stay focused on the data in front of him.

_Why did Light ask those questions?_ Mogi wondered, his fingers slowing. _Why didn't he ask something new, like WHY Rem had dropped the notebook?_ Mogi stared at a print-out nearby. _Maybe he already knows_, Mogi thought before chiding himself for being so suspicious. The 13 Day Rule had already proved that Light and Misa were innocent, and he understood that there was no point in going back to those theories. Remembering what L had said about unwritten rules, however, Mogi wondered if there could be a rule that added loopholes to any of the written ones.

Mogi sighed. He glanced at Light, but it seemed the teen didn't notice him. _This isn't getting me anywhere_, Mogi thought; _I need to keep working and let L figure these things out_. He didn't want to think about suspicions, or unwritten rules and loopholes, because if they had been wrong and there was some way around the 13 Day Rule, they were all in a lot of trouble.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Fetching

"Those are all of the rules? It doesn't seem like an overly complex game . . ."

"It's not. Those are the rules I remember, anyway, but I've only played a couple thousand times, so nowhere near as much as the others. Sometimes I think they just make it up as they go along."

"That would certainly make it more challenging." There was the faintest gleam in L's eye.

"Heh, yeah, I guess." Ryuk was reclined on the couch, turning to stare at the ceiling. "They're still not gonna come down here. They think the human world is boring – they barely even look into it to take lives."

"Hm, they can look in on us, but they rarely bother?"

"Yeah, I told you, they're b—"

"I don't suppose I could persuade you to bring them some kind of offering to tempt them here, could I?" L interrupted hurriedly.

"I can't go there as long as a human has my Death Note – anyway, what kind of offering did you think you could tempt them with? I already told you they can kill whenever they want . . ."

"But they don't have apples there, do they?" L's blank expression hadn't changed, though his tone was sweet.

"They do, but . . . not like here." Ryuk thought he knew where this was going. "There's no guarantee they'll like apples the way I do, though."

"Yes, that is why I would present them with several options. Apples, oranges, bananas, plums, strawberries, caramel, chocolate – even cake." L looked at the ceiling now as Ryuk stared at him. "And if perchance they are not swayed by sweets," L seemed to make an involuntary 'tsk' noise, "they may be interested in some Kobe beef, or British cheddar, or even . . . broccoli." L seemed to find the thought distasteful. "They don't have those things there either, correct?"

"Yeah, they don't, but . . . holding up a bunch of fruit or whatever isn't gonna make them fly down here. Like I said –"

"Say their names." L interrupted again.

"Shinigami don't come when you call 'em!" Ryuk said with a huff. "They don't fetch, either."

"Oh really?" L tossed an apple at Ryuk, who deftly caught it before giving L a look.

"Very funny." Ryuk crunched through the apple.

"I am not saying that you can conjure other shinigami by saying their names; I am simply saying that you may be able to get their attention that way." L noticed that Ryuk was laughing less now. _Perhaps I am annoying him_, L thought with amusement. "Try choosing one particular shinigami and repeat that one's name – it would need to be one who is more likely to be influenced by you . . ." L pinched his lip between thumb and forefinger.

"I dunno. I doubt that'll work."

"Could it hurt to try?" L stared into Ryuk's eyes, wanting to sound more hopeful than desperate. He knew the right balance was necessary to achieve the desired effect.

Ryuk sighed, head back on a pillow. "I can't just go shouting a name all the time – you're not the only one who can see – hey!" Ryuk's head snapped to attention, and he rose from the couch, hovering in the air, wings extending.

"What is it?" L tried not to show his tension.

"She's leaving – I have to follow, I can feel her getting out of range." Ryuk floated toward the window.

"Just say the name when she won't hear you." L said quickly. "I think you'll find the results to be worth your effort."

Ryuk turned just as he began phasing through the wall. "We'll see, L." Ryuk's chuckle was muted.

Before he'd finished passing through the wall, L threw the last apple at his head, and Ryuk caught it in his mouth before disappearing from view. L found himself amused at the image of the shinigami with an apple in its mouth, a parody of a roasted pig. He wasn't sure how useful the information he'd gotten would prove to be, but he would test some of it soon. It didn't really matter to L if Ryuk went through with the 'plan', although it amused L to think of him pointlessly repeating another shinigami's name in his spare time. And if Ryuk actually managed to get the attention of another shinigami, and that shinigami came to the human world to speak to L, well . . . _Things could get even more interesting_, L thought.

L was used to juggling several cases at once, since they were usually easy for him to solve. He'd had to focus more intently on the Kira case, but truth be told, he missed the pace of dealing with multiple cases. Granted, he hadn't had to do quite as many things in person then as he did now, but that would be part of the challenge.

_Don't get cocky_, L scolded himself. _There is still much to do, and I must not lose focus_. He turned back to face the table and saw that he had half a cake left. Before he could reach for it, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

"Yes? Of course. No, I'm done here. Is he?" L raised an eyebrow. "How many times have you changed the passwords since then?" L listened and then chuckled softly at Watari's response. "Nicely done. That should keep him occupied. Are you receiving a clear signal?" L looked wistfully at the cake, knowing he would have to save the rest for later. "Excellent. I doubt Light will say anything incriminating, but it's unlikely he would expect me to bug my own workstation. Do you think he anticipated the other bugs?" L nodded his head absently. "Yes, that's true. Well, given the current weather, I think I will find another way back down. Indeed. Oh, I think you can switch that off for now. Thank you for the cake – it was . . . beyond words."

L closed his cellphone and gently but firmly covered the cake so that it would not go stale in his absence. That done, he went to the sink to wash his hands and face to remove all traces of it, as though the cake were a secret lover. Exiting the apartment cautiously, L moved to the stairwell and entered, staying out of camera range in the blind spots, heading back to HQ and into the thick of things.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Restlessness

"_Damn_ it!"

Mogi looked up at Light's muttered exclamation and considered asking him if he needed help with something, though he knew what the answer would likely be. Light's eyes slipped sideways to meet Mogi's, and as Mogi watched, the anger cleared from his face, leaving Light with a calm smile.

"Sorry Mogi, I didn't mean to distract you. How's the data-gathering going?" Light leaned back in his chair, turning to face Mogi more fully.

"It's going pretty well so far, but there's a lot more to do. I'm organizing everything chronologically, of course, but we'll be able to search by region, cause of death, age, gender, birthplace, occupation, and whether they have criminal records . . ." Mogi knew he could go on for much longer on the topic, but he saw Light's eyes glazing over and recognized that he was only asking to be polite. He decided to be polite in return. "What are you working on?"

Light's face seemed to tighten slightly, though his expression of bored bemusement did not change. "Oh, I just thought I'd figured out a lead on the new Kira, but everything I turned up refuted my theory, so I'm basically back to square one."

"That's too bad." Mogi stated plainly.

"Yeah." Light stretched, his back arching and his arms forming a V as he reached toward the ceiling.

Mogi turned back to his work, not entirely certain that the conversation was over. He noticed that the shinigami was still in the room, staring desultorily at the Death Note on the table, yet somehow seeming not to see it. He wondered if she was in a trance, and wondered how much of what she'd said was true. _She's not very cooperative, that's for sure_, Mogi thought.

"I wish someone would report back – Dad or Aizawa should have something to tell us by now." Light drummed his fingers on the desktop, staring at the wall of screen before him.

"I doubt they'd call in unless it was something very important, Light. They'll be back here soon enough with the information." Mogi continued typing, looking straight ahead.

"I guess you're right." With casual ease, Light stood from his chair, cracking his neck. "I need to take a walk and clear my head. Can you keep an eye on things here, Mogi? I won't be long."

"Sure, no problem." Some dubiousness seemed to creep into Mogi's expression as he glanced at Light, but he said nothing more.

"Great, thanks." Light walked slowly into the hallway, shooting a quick look back at Rem as if to say 'stay there.' He doubted Mogi would spare much thought about him or what he was doing, unlike Matsuda and Watari had. Heading straight for the stairwell, he pushed the door open, resolving to find L once and for all. Light would check the apartment again, and if he got no response, he'd keep looking – on every floor of the building, if necessary. Reaching into his pocket, he switched his phone off, not wanting to be interrupted again. He knew Watari would still be watching, but this did not worry him. In fact, Light hoped that this would work in his favor, either by causing L to trip up or forcing him to confront Light head-on.

Light hoped for the second scenario. He was ready to take the gloves off if need be. With just the slightest spring in his step, Light moved up the stairs, his footfalls echoing above and below him. Smiling as though he was hearing the sweetest music, he started humming along.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Chase

The phone started vibrating only moments before he heard a door creak open below him, and he suddenly knew why he was getting a call. Careful to make no noise, L backtracked up the stairs, staying away from the center rail. He let the call go to voicemail, knowing that Watari would realize that his warning had been received.

Given the approximate location of the door sound and the only people still occupying the building, it could only have been one of two people, and Mogi was unlikely to break from his work to climb the stairs, which meant . . . _Is Light humming?_ L thought incredulously. L began to wonder if Light had actually broken through Watari's system defenses, although if he had, L realized that Light would probably already have called up to him by now. _Unless he's toying with me_, L thought with a grimace.

L relaxed his breathing and continued to move upward, glad that his bare feet allowed him to be stealthy. He decided that once he heard Light open a door to exit the stairwell, he would open the door to whichever floor he happened to be on at that time in order to mask the sound. The timing, however, would have to be just right.

The steps felt cool on the balls of his feet as he ascended, and L tried to outpace the footfalls he heard approaching below him. Abruptly, a loud 'ka-chunk' noise echoed through the stairwell. L was on a landing between floors – he knew he could not get to the next door to open it in time and remain unheard. The door below him closed again, and L kept moving upward, still not certain Light hadn't simply opened the door and remained in the stairwell, listening for him. Deciding he would go straight to the roof, L maintained his pace. _I will take the elevator down_, L thought; _Light may draw whatever conclusions he likes from that_. He did not want to draw Light's attention to the floor on which his new apartment was – having to move everything again would be annoying.

Light was faced with the door of the apartment he had shared with L once more. The smell was still noticeable, though fading. He pressed his ear to the door, careful to make no sound of his own, but all he could hear was the sound of the ventilation system and the humming of the lights above him. _Could L have come down the glass stairs in HQ while I was coming up here?_ Light wondered, briefly considering calling Mogi. _It's possible, but . . . unlikely_. He considered the possibility that L might have left the building, but Light knew that L would have had to pass too many cameras to get to the ground floor unnoticed.

Light walked around the corner to look above the elevator doors. No elevator was below the level of HQ, but one of them was at ". . . the roof." Light finished aloud. _Gotcha_, he thought. It was a few more floors up, but not too many. He didn't want L to track him by watching the elevator lights, so he moved back toward the stairs. _I did say I wanted to stretch my legs_, Light thought with a grin, opening the door to the stairwell again.

L's hand froze momentarily on the door handle he'd just pulled open. The sound of the other door opening was further below him than he'd feared, and he moved briskly over the threshold, pulling the door closed in time to match the closing sound of the door below. As relieved as he was to have been wrong about Light pursuing him up the stairs moments before, he knew he was certainly being pursued now. L smiled. _This time it will be on my terms_, he thought. _Perhaps I will even be able to find out a thing or two_.

Only the circular helipad was above him now as L looked out into the pouring rain. Sighing as he made his decision, L reached forward to push open the glass door and walked out onto the open portion of the roof, where the wind had buffeted him just the night before. He moved toward the satellite dish this time, the rain stinging him, soaking him to the skin before he'd even walked past the grates, an unwelcome contrast to the shower he'd enjoyed earlier. L turned to face the same direction as the dish, hands in his pockets, and waited.

Light was breathing a bit more heavily than he would have liked when he got to the top of the stairs. _Had it really just been an echo after all?_ he wondered. _Or did another door close at the same time as mine?_ Light knew that L could fly the helicopter, so it wasn't impossible that he had already left some time ago that way, but if he was attempting to leave now . . . _I can stop him_, Light thought. Setting his jaw, Light pushed open the door.

The hallway was lit dimly from above, and one of its walls was almost entirely glass, facing out onto the open roof and the dark grey sky beyond it. Light tried to remember which way they had taken to the helipad on the night they had chased Higuchi as he walked down the hallway. Light remembered a separate set of stairs leading to it further along, and he found his pace quickening. _I've got to hurry_, he thought; _if he's gone . . ._

Something caught Light's eye, and he slowed to a stop. _A white cloth?_ Light puzzled. He looked out at the satellite dish, ready to scold himself for seeing things, and felt his mouth fall open. L was _right there_ – not running, not moving. It made no sense to him. _Why the hell is L standing in the rain?_ Light wondered.

Light opened the glass door and stood beneath the overhang, still frankly dumbfounded. _Does he think he can hide from me this way?_ Light thought, staring. As Light was trying to formulate words, he saw L turn slightly toward him, as though L's eyes were being drawn against their volition to Light's. Taking a deep breath, Light decided it was time to speak.

"What are you doing standing out there by yourself?" Light could not think of anything more reasonable than that to say, though he realized he'd said it more to himself than to L. Sure enough, L cupped a hand to his ear, so Light repeated himself, shouting to be heard over the rain.

Even if L had been able to hear Light, he would have feigned otherwise, not that any such ruse was necessary, given the din of the storm. L repeated the gesture, unable to suppress a smile. L watched as Light grimaced, raised a hand in a futile attempt to shield himself from the rain, and moved toward him. L turned away again, attempting to banish his amusement as he steeled himself for the inevitable.

"What are you doing, Ryuzaki?"

L stole a sideways glance and then cast his eyes downward. "Oh, I'm not doing anything in particular, it's just . . ." L looked up, into the distance. "I hear the bell."

Light's befuddled expression did not change as he looked out beyond the roof and then back at L again. "The bell?"

"Yes. The sound of the bell has been unusually loud today."

"Hm?" The furrow in Light's brow increased. "I don't hear anything."

"Really. You can't hear it?" L gave Light a disparaging look, wondering if he was paying enough attention to catch on. "It's been ringing for days now, getting louder and louder. I wonder if it's a church – maybe a wedding, or perhaps . . . well, perhaps it is better not to ask." _Because if it tolls for me, then it may toll for thee as well_, L thought amiably.

"What are you getting at, Ryuzaki?" Alarm was in Light's voice, drawing L's eyes to him once more. "C'mon, cut it out – let's get back inside." Light wondered how long L had been standing outside, unsure for the first time if he really knew what was going on.

"I'm sorry. Nothing I say makes any sense anyway. If I were you, I wouldn't believe any of it." L's eyes were downcast, his hair drooping and dripping, making him look pitiable.

Light shook himself as though from a reverie. _You're not getting any sympathy from me, you lunatic_, Light thought. "You know, you're totally right. Honestly, most of the things you say sound like complete nonsense. There'd be no end to my troubles if I actually took you seriously all the time. I probably know that better than anyone." Light felt more confident now. _Whatever you're playing at, L, I will turn it around on you_, Light thought.

"Yes. I would say that's a fair assessment." L glanced sidelong at Light. "But . . . I could say the same about you."

"Hm? What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Tell me, Light," L said, turning fully to face him, "from the moment you were born, has there ever been a point when you've actually told the truth?"

The silence stretched between them, the sound of the rain seeming to fade to nothing as though time had stopped along with their breathing. Their eyes held each other like blades crossing, and they saw each other all too clearly. Only a parry would break the spell.

"Where's this coming from, Ryuzaki?" Light finally spoke. "I do admit, I stretch the truth here and there, however, find me one person in this world who's never had to tell a lie, and it wouldn't be easy. Human beings just aren't made to be perfect like that. Everybody lies from time to time. Even so, I've always made a conscious effort not to tell a lie that could hurt others." Light took a breath. "That's my answer."

L somehow found it easier now not to roll his eyes at Light, maintaining his doleful expression. _Perhaps the rain is getting to me_, he thought. "I had a feeling you would say something like that." L looked away, staring into the reflection of lights in the puddles at his feet. He had his answer, unsurprising as it was. _Being incapable of telling the truth will not prevent you from revealing yourself in other ways, Light_, L thought. "Let's go back inside." L said, relenting. "We're both drenched."

"Yeah . . ."

The grate clanged slightly as L walked over it and past Light, who followed him to the glass door. As warm as his hands and feet normally were, L could not feel them now, and he longed for a nice hot cup of tea with honey in it. Hearing Light's footfalls behind him, he realized that he no longer felt stalked. _Haunted is more like it_, he thought.

Inside, L headed toward the helipad stairs and thought he heard Light gasp behind him but said nothing. He knew where he was going.

Light wondered if L was going to make a break for it and run for the helicopter. L didn't seem to have the energy, but he'd surprised him before. Light kept pace, preparing himself in case he had to fight.

L reached a door Light hadn't noticed before and ducked into a room. _Oh no you don't_, Light thought, speeding up to grab for the door himself – only to be brought up short by the smell of chlorine in the dark room. _There's a pool?_ Light wondered. He looked up to see L returning with two towels. Light wondered what else he didn't know about the building as he took the towel L offered and backed away, moving to sit on the wide stair landing that led down from the pool level. He took off his sodden shoes and began to blot the water from his hair and face. He wanted to seem as casual and unconcerned as possible, but he resolved to prevent L's escape if he made the attempt.

L sighed, draping his towel over his head. "Well, that was certainly an unpleasant outing."

"It's your own fault. I mean, what did you expect?" Light seemed indignant yet dismissive.

_What indeed_, L thought. "You're right. Sorry." L fought the heaviness that seemed to sit like a stone on his chest. He'd given up his delusions eight days ago – he was certain he knew how this would end. But he felt that that was no reason not to entangle and alter the expectations of others in the meantime, especially if it meant bringing the case to a close. L removed the towel from his head and moved down the steps to just below Light. Crouching, L took Light's bare right foot in his hands, cradling it with the towel.

Light's eyes flew wide open and he gasped. "What are you doing?"

L looked up, keeping his face blank. "I thought I might help you out. You were busy wiping yourself off anyway."

"Look, i-it's fine," Light stammered, "you don't have to do that."

"I can give you a massage as well." L felt Light's foot shake a little. "It's the least I can do to atone for my sins." L wondered if he sounded too innocent. "I'm actually pretty good at this."

Light looked away, seeming to have recovered from the initial shock. "Fine. Do what you want."

"Alright." L focused on the foot, holding it up and remembering everything he'd learned about massage and acupressure – what to do and, sometimes more helpfully, what not to do. _Not that inducing plantar fasciitis is really my goal here_, L thought, _and there are more kinds of discomfort than the mere physical – pain is relative_. Gripping Light's foot, L sharply pressed into the arch with his thumb.

Light grunted, his eyes snapping back to L. "Hey!"

"You'll get used to it." L murmured, continuing to squeeze. He was momentarily grateful for the depression that sometimes overtook him, as it was now keeping his amusement at bay. He needed Light to believe that he was vulnerable, defeated even. It would lend L the element of surprise when he needed it. Water was dripping from his disheveled hair onto Light's ankle, just as it was pooling behind him where he crouched.

Drops of water hitting flesh snapped Light back to reality as he looked down at L's bent head, wondering what the detective was trying to prove. _He can't not know how this looks – can he?_ Light wondered. Blinking, Light refocused his thoughts and reached for his towel. "Here," he said, mopping L's brow, "you're still soaked." The initial pain was fading, and he was starting to feel warmer, more relaxed as L kneaded the muscles of his foot. _I hope he doesn't think I'm going to fall asleep from this_, Light thought.

L hardly looked up. "I'm sorry." In some ways, he really was sorry. Not sorry that they were both sopping wet and cold, not sorry that he was making Light uncomfortable, but sorry that Light had become what he now was, and sorry that it was too late for him to change. L knew that things were not likely to go well for either of them, whatever the outcome of the case, and he felt haunted by the myriad things he could not fix, as time no longer seemed to stretch inexorably to the horizon.

Moving over, L started working on Light's left foot. "It'll be lonely, won't it."

Light's eyes widened despite himself as he watched L. _He's never touched me like this before – why now?_ Light wondered. He felt an unformed word try to emerge from his lips and stopped it, realizing belatedly that the tension he felt was likely carrying to his extremities. He watched L look up at him through his dark messy hair.

"You and I will be parting ways soon."

A gasp escaped Light and he froze, for once unable to think of anything to say.

_And now you know that I know_, thought L, a smile haunting his lips. If only Light would confess, right now while his defenses were down, things could change. But L could not hope for something so unlikely, not from the boy who had given in to pride and power, fancying himself a god. What Kira had done had made a mockery of God and a travesty of Justice.

His phone's vibration brought L out of his own thoughts. Ignoring Light's quizzical and perhaps disappointed expression as L stood, he took out his cell and flipped it open, looking away from Light. "Yes?"

L's brow furrowed slightly. "I see. Have you heard from him since then?" L paused again to listen. "Hm, that's . . . not good. I'm on my way."

L shut and pocketed his phone, still facing away from Light. "C'mon. Let's go, Light. It seems there's a pressing matter to which we must attend." L began walking toward the elevator, the wet slap of his footfalls echoing faintly in the hallway as Light belatedly got to his feet to follow, absently leaving the towels behind and holding his dripping shoes in one hand, a trail of water marking their passage.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Just so you know, I'm using the manga as my primary source (as books 1-12 are indisputably canon) and the discrepancy in timeline between the manga and HTR13 as my jumping off point, but . . . I couldn't resist putting in the rain scene from the anime and putting my spin on it. I actually included more of it verbatim than I had expected, but enough of it still worked.

I liked winging back and forth between L's and Light's PoVs in the last section – I hope that didn't get too confusing for anyone. I was listening to "Jigsaw Falling into Place" by Radiohead during the race up the stairs part.


	8. Tangent

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: By touching the other Death Note, L is able to see Ryuk – and he has a proposal for him. What else will change? Post-Higuchi; slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 8: Tangent

Repercussions

It seemed like it would be a long ride down. Watari watched them in the elevator. L's face was its usual unreadable mask, and Light looked as suspicious of L as ever, but something seemed different. Though neither of them spoke, Light continually glanced over at L and then away, fidgeting with the shoes in his hand and shifting his weight on his uncustomarily bare feet. L, for his part, was utterly still and seemed more distant than usual. And then there was the small matter of their being sopping wet.

He'd been able to see them via cameras in the uppermost hallway and the wide staircase that led down from the pool to the gym, but there were no bugs there. Watari knew that L was aware of this, but wondered if they should have placed some there after all. _Seems a moot point now, sadly_, Watari thought, watching the mismatched pair descend. _I do hope L is not becoming depressed again._ Though he likely knew him better than any other living person, Watari still found the black-haired lad he'd helped to raise to be something of a mystery.

The elevator doors opened onto main HQ, and the two young men stepped free, trailing rainwater behind them. Watari watched as Mogi turned to greet them.

"We just received a – what . . . happened to you?" Mogi looked incredulous.

L opened his mouth to speak, but Light cut him off. "We were on the roof. What's going on?"

Mogi seemed to blink at the lack of an explanation, but before he could respond, Watari spoke over the intercom. "Chief Yagami is on his way up. I'd like to wait for his arrival before explaining. Perhaps Ryuzaki and Light would like to change into dry clothes in the meantime?"

Light craned his neck around, eyes settling on where two neat stacks of clothing had been placed with towels on a couch not far from the Death Note. Light put his free hand on his hip. "Wait – where is Rem?"

"Not here, apparently." L's voice sounded lackadaisical. Watari watched the exchange with interest as L wandered over toward the clothing.

"How can you be so nonchalant about it? If the shinigami's gone missing, that seems like a pretty big deal to me!" Light huffed.

"She can't have gone far." L stated placidly, not looking in Light's direction.

"Yeah, Light, don't worry about it." Mogi spoke up. "Like Rem said when you asked her, she has to stay close to the Death Note."

"Is _that_ what she said. Fascinating." L sounded anything but fascinated.

Watari noticed that Light's free hand was a fist now, his jaw clenching. Abruptly, Light's face slackened into shock. "What are you doing?"

"Hm?" L's wet shirt muffled his voice as he pulled it over his head. "I'm changing my clothes, why?" L seemed mildly confused but unconcerned. "Misa is no longer here, so I needn't worry about offending –"

"It's rude!" Light's tone was sharper than usual. Though they were in different rooms, Watari's and Mogi's eyebrows raised as one.

L looked over his bare shoulder, eye half-lidded. "If you have such delicate sensibilities, then go change elsewhere. I wish to feel more comfortable, but I do not want to delay Watari's explanation further by being absent when your father arrives."

Light's face was flushed and Watari wondered if another fight was in the offing. "_Fine_." Light spoke through clenched teeth, marching toward L. Throwing his wet shoes at L's feet, Light grabbed the pile of clothing that had been left for him. "I'll be in the bathroom," Light said gruffly, then mumbling as he exited, "like a civilized person."

Mogi turned to face his desk again as L finished changing. Watari thought that L looked calm, even relaxed. The shinigami's departure had not been part of any plan of which he was aware, but it seemed to have had some results in regard to keeping Light off-balance. Watari hoped, not for the first time, that L's risky decision-making did not backfire on him.

After a few minutes of silence, broken only by the shuffling of papers and clothing, the ding of the elevator brought a welcome reprieve. L looked up from where he'd left his wet garments, rubbing his hair with a towel, and nodded at Soichiro as he entered HQ. "Welcome back, Mr. Yagami. I believe Watari has something important to share with us."

"Uh, aren't we going to wait for –"

"Hey! Don't start without me." Light interrupted Mogi, shirt still untucked as he re-entered the room. "Hi Dad," he said in a lower voice.

"Hello Light. Where are your shoes?" Soichiro's brow developed its customary furrow.

"Oh, they got wet so I took them off. Don't ask." Light dropped his wet clothes on the floor next to his shoes.

"We are assembled, Watari. Please begin." L stepped into his usual chair.

"What about –"

"Matsuda is apparently still procuring lunch." L interrupted Soichiro.

"Ah. Alright." Soichiro seemed ready to listen now.

"A short time ago, I received an unusual text message from Aizawa." Watari began. "In addition to it being unusual for him to use the text feature at all, the message itself seems to be coded. I was unable to reach him after receiving his text. I will bring the message up on the central screen so that you may see it for yourselves."

Watari hit 'enter' and the text message he'd saved on his phone appeared onscreen:

ST LUKES HOSP 1038AM

3M-BLK2003S K85-J99

They stared at it for several seconds, until Soichiro said "St. Luke's is the same hospital that Higuchi was in after his accident!" Looking around at the roomful of eyes now on him, Soichiro hastened to explain. "Namikawa told me that Higuchi had been in a bad car accident a number of years ago. Apparently a nurse there made some kind of connection with him – I haven't been able to find out the nurse's name yet, but I was planning to go there and interview her."

"Hm." L seemed to be trying to stare the onscreen message into submission.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything, Dad." Light's tone was disparaging for someone speaking to his own father, in Watari's opinion. "It sounds like it happened before Kira came along."

"That may be true, Light – this might have no bearing on the case, or it might be the thing to break it. We can't afford to miss any detail, not when it could solve the case for good."

"Indeed. Well said, Mr. Yagami." L's eyes were still glued to the screen. "I'm not sure that this is truly code, though, Watari, at least not in the conventional sense."

"Oh?" Watari smiled to himself. "What is your interpretation, Ryuzaki?"

"Hm, well, the first part is just a reference to one of the hospitals Aizawa was scheduled to visit with . . ." L pressed a finger to his temple as though it might finish the sentence for him.

"Ide." Mogi and Soichiro spoke in unison.

"Yes. Ide. And perhaps the time reference is to when they arrived there, or when they departed. The other numbers . . ."

"Maybe a building code? Followed by a car's license plate." Light seemed focused on the screen as well.

"Mmm, possibly. Although the first alphanumeric code might actually be a way of referring to the vehicle as well – as in three men, in a black 2003 model sedan . . . followed by the license plate number." L's head tilted slightly and he began typing rapidly.

"Did he activate his belt?"

"No, he did not, Chief Yagami." Watari answered.

"I believe we should proceed as if they are in danger, even if they are not. Can you determine a location, Watari?" L placed both hands on his knees.

"I can tell you the location of the belt, but not whether Aizawa is still in it."

"It's a start. Please bring up the map on my screen." L leaned forward, waiting as Watari worked. A moment later, a close-in map of Japan appeared on L's monitor with one red dot on it. "Is that . . . in a warehouse district?"

"Yes – I know where that is." Soichiro nearly growled.

"Excellent – can you and Mogi get there quickly?" L asked.

"Of course. Let's go, Mogi."

"Hmm – the license plate number is not listed . . ." L said, flipping back to the search he'd started. "This could mean it's a fake."

"Or it's not a license plate number . . ." Light mumbled almost to himself.

"Take all precautions when you approach this location, both of you." L seemed to ignore Light completely.

Mogi clasped his stomach as he rose to join Soichiro by the elevator, and Watari remembered that Matsuda had not yet returned with lunch. "Help yourself to anything in the kitchen before you go, gentlemen." Watari said.

"There's no time – Aizawa and Ide could be in real trouble!" Soichiro said brusquely, heedless of Mogi's distress as he pressed the button to head down.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Excursion's End

"Ugh, I can't believe it's still raining. Why won't it stop?"

"Well, it has to stop sometime, Misa-Misa." Matsuda was trying to be the gentleman, holding both the umbrella and the large bag of sandwiches, but he was having trouble keeping pace with Misa. How she could walk so fast in those platform shoes he had no idea.

"I'm sure the next store will have umbrellas, Matsu." Misa twinkled up at him. "I'm so glad you stayed to have lunch with me – you're so sweet!"

"Um, no problem Misa-Misa – it was my pleasure, ha ha!" Matsuda had managed to eat without choking despite some of the things Misa had said to him and the number of times her fans had interrupted them, but he was still working on controlling his blushing. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he'd taken much more time to pick up lunch for the team than he'd planned, and he hoped that everyone back at HQ wasn't mad at him.

A bus zoomed by them as they approached the corner and splashed them both, thoroughly soaking Matsuda's pants since he was closer to the street.

"Hey! You stupid bus driver! Watch where you're going!" Misa yelled indignantly.

Matsuda was glad he'd been holding the bag of sandwiches high, and that it was plastic. _It'd be just my luck if I had to go back and buy more_, he thought. "Are you OK, Misa?"

"He got Misa's shoes wet, but you r_eally_ got splashed." Misa bent down and moved closer to him, hand raised as though she was about to try and brush Matsuda's pants off, and he nearly fell down. "Oh, it's hopeless. C'mon Matsu, let's just get inside." Misa dragged Matsuda by the arm into the shop they'd been headed toward.

Bright lights assaulted Matsuda's eyes, and he bent to close the umbrella before looking around. "Wha— Misa, I don't think they have umbrellas in here . . ." Girlish clothing surrounded him, much of it in gaudy colors. "I'll just head back without this," Matsuda said, handing Misa the umbrella, "I'm already wet now anyway."

"No way! Misa wouldn't do that to you, Matsu. And hey, the umbrellas are right over here!" Misa slipped between clothing racks to a spot near a display case and held up a bubblegum pink one with yellow and blue smilie face flowers.

"Um . . ." Matsuda looked like he was tasting something sour. "Tell you what, Misa, I'll buy you that one, and I'll just hold onto this one."

"Aww – you would look so _cute_ with this one!" Misa pouted, ignoring Ryuk, who was cackling above her near the ceiling. "It's OK, Matsu, Misa has money – I'll buy one here, and you can go back with Mogi's. I bet everyone's pretty hungry by now, and I don't want my sweet Light to miss lunch!"

Matsuda blinked. "Are . . . are you sure, Misa?"

"Of course I am! Misa could shop all day in here . . ." Misa trailed off, looking toward a rack of lacy underthings.

"OK then – take care, Misa-Misa! It was good to see you again." Matsuda waved and turned toward the shop door.

"You too, Matsu!" Misa ran back to Matsuda, impulsively kissing him on the cheek. "Say hi to everyone for Misa!" She twirled and flounced away, pretending not to notice Matsuda's bright red cheeks. _Maybe he'll tell Light I kissed him and Light'll get jealous_, Misa thought, _or at least maybe he'll miss me more_. Misa began rifling through filmy clothing, cooing over the things she liked and ignoring the sighs and grumbling coming from the ceiling.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Impact

_Stay still, just stay still_. Blood trickled down the side of Ide's face as he lay on the concrete trying not to move but needing to listen. He hoped his text had gotten through to the Task Force. He'd taken a chance that the last call Aizawa had made on his phone had been to them. After the crash, Aizawa's cell had landed on Ide's side of the car, and he'd snatched it up on impulse. The men holding Aizawa at gunpoint were too far away for him to hear clearly, but he was determined to keep trying.

"And you expect me to just believe you?" Aizawa's voice was just loud enough for Ide to hear, even though he was faced away from him. Ide wondered if Aizawa was speaking loudly on purpose, just in case he was conscious and listening. If only the phone had held enough of a charge for him to make a call. Ide tried not to shift his prone form. _The one text I sent is just gonna have to do_, he thought.

There were three of them. Aizawa had noticed first that they were being followed, and he'd done his best to lose them, driving all over Tokyo – not fun, even on non-rainy days – and ended up in one of the warehouse districts. Aizawa had decided that if he couldn't lose their pursuers, he'd force a confrontation. Things had not gone exactly as planned when they'd found their way blocked by a parked truck and the car following them had plowed into theirs, pinning their car. Luckily, the airbags had worked. Unluckily, the three men had been able to draw their guns before Aizawa and Ide could extricate themselves.

Getting hit on the head had sucked, but Ide was glad that being knocked to the floor had allowed him to get a message out – at least they seemed to think he'd been knocked out, so they'd paid less attention to him. He just wasn't sure how he could help now. _Are these guys connected to Kira somehow?_ Ide wondered. The three men appeared to be well-trained, and they'd honed in on them from the time they'd left St. Luke's, at least according to Aizawa's estimation. Kira-related or not, Ide felt the timing of this was a little too good to be true. _Too bad to be true, more like_, he thought.

"If you want our cooperation, you're going to have to do better than that." Aizawa's hands were still in the air, which Ide could see by peering back and up under his arm. Ide could not see the tall man to whom Aizawa was speaking from his angle, but he could see the two men flanking him. One was apparently Japanese, but the other seemed European. He knew that the tall man was blonde, but he hadn't gotten a good look at his face.

"Well, what do you think we're trying to do?" Aizawa was starting to sound desperate. Ide suspected that he was trying to buy them time so that they might be found by someone, but that he might be losing the struggle to stall. Ide strained harder, focusing, trying to hear the tall man.

"Yeah, of course I did! But that doesn't mean I'm working with – hey!" Aizawa exclaimed as he was cut short by the tall man pushing past him. Ide had just enough time to realize he'd been noticed, but not enough time to react before he found himself lifted by the collar.

"Nice of you to join us. Now tell me everything you just heard." The tall blond man pierced Ide with an icy glare from his blue eyes. Ide could no longer see Aizawa – this man took up most of his field of vision - and found himself wishing he was still talking to the pretty blonde nurse instead.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Passing

Matsuda felt like he'd stepped in every single puddle on his way back to HQ, but he told himself it didn't matter since he was already wet from the waist down. _I can change once I get there_, he thought, sprinting to cross another street before the light turned. _Maybe this whole 'getting lunch for ourselves' thing was a bad idea . . . but then again, is it any better to just expect Watari to do everything?_ Matsuda decided that the inconvenience was worth it, since Watari must have important things to do too.

Racing up the steps to the entrance, Matsuda got to the door, and waved, lowering his umbrella, until he heard the click. He entered the lobby and nearly fell down in his rush, the slick marble shining up at him. Steadying himself, he closed the umbrella and moved over to the panel where he pressed his palm and then presented his eye to the scanning device. He then pressed the elevator button.

"Oh man!" Matsuda slapped his forehead, realizing that he'd pressed the down button by mistake, so he pressed the up button, hoping his error wouldn't slow things any further. He shook water from his legs as he waited.

A chime rang out as the elevator reached his level – heading down. Matsuda sighed as the doors opened, only to find himself facing "Chief! Mogi!" They seemed as surprised to see him as he was to see them. "Where are you going?"

"Aizawa and Ide are in trouble, Matsuda – we're on our way to help them." Soichiro said.

"Oh no! Good thing I got back in time, then." Matsuda stepped into the elevator with them. "We can eat on the way." Matsuda reached into the sandwich bag as the doors enclosed them and handed Mogi one of the bigger paper-wrapped sandwiches. Mogi seemed to hold it as though it was a holy artifact.

"Thank you." Mogi whispered.

"Here Chief, I got extras in case you guys got back." Matsuda handed Soichiro a sandwich as well, not noticing the man's dubious expression.

"Matsuda . . . I think you should stay here."

"What? But if Aizawa's in trouble, I want to help!" Matsuda felt hurt by Soichiro's suggestion. "I'm better in the field anyway, you know that. I'm sure Ryuzaki –"

"Matsuda! Please – Ryuzaki asked Mogi to go with me. He may need you for something else. Depending on what we find when we get there, he may need to send you to a different location. The only thing we know for sure right now is where Aizawa's belt is. We have to take this one step at a time." Soichiro explained.

Matsuda tried to keep his disappointment hidden but knew it must still be obvious when both of the other men had trouble meeting his eye. "I guess. Sorry Chief."

The elevator doors opened on the parking level, and Soichiro and Mogi hurried out. Mogi was already 1/3 of the way through his steak sub.

"We'll be in touch as soon as we know anything!" Soichiro called behind him

"Mph rmph." Mogi made a futile attempt to speak with his mouth full, and then settled for a wave.

Matsuda waved back as the elevator doors closed. After a moment, he remembered to press the floor button for HQ. "Ryuzaki won't need me for anything. Nobody needs me for anything," he mumbled. Watching water drip from his cuffs, Matsuda tried to shake off the gloom – he knew that feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to help Aizawa, or Ide, or anyone for that matter. _Plus, I've got the sandwiches, so at least they'll need me for that_, Matsuda thought.

The doors opened again on the empty lobby, grey curtains of rain still visible outside, and though he knew the elevator had stopped because he had pressed both buttons, Matsuda suddenly felt as if he was riding upward with a ghost, and he shivered, finally aware that he was cold.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Aww, poor Matsu. And yes, I'm getting tired of the rain too, now. *hands everyone a towel* I changed the summary slightly, so hopefully that makes more sense.

You know, I always assumed Death Note was set in Tokyo – I could have sworn that it said so in the manga, but maybe it was only implied. They named real regions and provinces, I know that much. Regardless, for the purposes of my fanfic, they ARE in Tokyo – an alternate Tokyo that includes some things that exist in the real Tokyo and some things that don't (To-Oh University? Totally in Tokyo), just to be clear. ;-)


	9. Viscera Lingua

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: By touching the other Death Note, L is able to see Ryuk, and he has a proposal for him. What else will change? Post-Higuchi; slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 9: Viscera Lingua

Companion

Silence was like a third person in the room glaring from one man to the other – _banish me at your peril_ it seemed to say. Light pierced the screen before him with his eyes, his fingers tapping at the keyboard as if of their own volition. He didn't want silence to leave. Of all the company he could currently keep, he preferred its uneasy presence. He did not trust himself to speak. Rage, his more constant companion, was nearly boiling out of him, and he would not – would _not_ – lose control. It wasn't an option.

Without inclining his head or moving his eyes, Light regarded L, who was at the rim of his peripheral vision. L seemed intent on his task without seeming intense, intermittently tapping on his keyboard and staring at length at the results onscreen. Light wondered what exactly L was working on, but didn't want to ask. The cryptic text message from Aizawa's phone still hovered above them on the central screen, mocking them for having been caught off-guard.

_Unless . . . could this somehow be part of L's plan?_ Light wondered. He couldn't see a connection, or any logic to it, not yet. Light had been certain that L was no longer giving orders to Wedy or Aiber, but he was less sure of that now. _L could have sent them to intercept Aizawa, but why?_ Light puzzled. Light also realized that it was possible that L had other people he could contact. _No, not possible_, Light thought, _LIKELY_. All of the time L had supposedly spent in the bathroom loomed in Light's mind – he didn't believe L was sick, and if he'd been making trips to the roof the entire time, getting secret messages out that way . . . _That would explain why he was on the roof at all_, Light thought; _it makes no sense otherwise_.

"Oh God." And silence was gone.

Light turned at L's unexpected words, only to find him clutching his stomach, color drained from his face. Before Light could speak in response, however, L's intestines spoke up instead. L met Light's eyes, and Light was surprised to see real discomfort twisting L's face. Without another word, L sprinted out of the room, heading straight for the hall bathroom.

Momentarily stunned, Light blinked and then moved his chair over to see what L had been working on, but his screen had been cleared and the keyboard locked. _Figures_, Light thought. He moved his chair back, staring blankly at the desk. Light believed that the gut-rumbling noises had sounded real enough, but if L had had a device on him to play back sounds, he would only have had to put on a convincing enough act . . .

Light stood, chair sailing away from him, and marched toward the bathroom. He didn't care that Watari could see him anymore. He would prove that L was lying, no matter what.

The bathroom door flew open and hit the outside wall, and Light stomped through as it swung shut behind him. The noises, and the smell, were all too familiar, but Light wasn't buying it. _Time for this stupid prank to end_, Light thought. "Cut it out, Ryuzaki! This is bullshit!"

"What?" L's voice echoed weakly. "I assure you, I am not of bovine descent."

"You think this is funny? I know you're faking it, so just come out of there!"

"I-I'm not, and I can't. Please, Light, just let me finish in peace." L's voice held a note of what seemed like genuine pleading. _Nice touch_, Light thought.

"I'm done playing along, Ryuzaki." Light made good on the low threat in his voice, pulling repeatedly on the top edge of the stall door until the latch bent and the door swung outward.

L's face, still paler than usual, registered shock. He grimaced as a spasm seemed to roll through him. The sounds seemed real enough, but Light refused to stop. He grabbed L by the front of his shirt and dragged him roughly out of the stall, dropping him to the floor. Light's fists clenched and the blood sang in his ears. He was not fully conscious of his right foot moving backward, his body tensing in readiness, until the moment L looked up at him.

_Fear. Actual raw fear – in L's eyes!_ Part of Light screamed with joy, but another part regarded the scene with horror. Light detached himself from both of these parts and looked around. There was no mistaking what was in the toilet, and Light detached himself from that too. He looked back at L. _Shame, pain, anger . . . revulsion?_ Light found himself staring, unable to detach further. L had pushed himself back on his haunches, pants still down, loose shirt hanging low in front of him. L's expression now was bordering on feral. Light had never seen him like this, even when they had fought.

"Ryuzaki, I . . ."

"Get out."

"I just thought –"

"Get _out_." L did not raise his voice, but Light could see the muscles of his arms standing out, ropey and taut. Light found himself moving backwards as though he had come face-to-face with a hungry lion. He kept himself detached from all his dissenting parts and pushed the bathroom door open, backing through it, relieved to find his companion, silence, waiting for him in the hallway.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Reaction

The floor beneath him was cold, and not especially clean. It was about to be less clean if he didn't move quickly, and he pushed off, muscles quaking with adrenaline. His head was pounding now, and he tasted blood. With an economy of motion, he seated himself. _Did I bite my tongue?_ He moved it experimentally and swallowed. Closing his eyes, he began regulating his breathing. Calm was necessary, especially under the most unpleasant of circumstances.

_Had Light really been about to kick me?_ The thought popped L back out of his meditation, and he noticed he'd left the stall door open. L sighed and closed his eyes again, ignoring the door, ignoring his overactive intestines, pushing all thought from his mind. The blankness washed over him and he floated within it, wondering if this time he would let himself drown.

Gradually, he let his eyes open again, noting that the spasms seemed to be abating. The headache remained, but with reduced intensity. L estimated that he was likely experiencing some dehydration as well, which meant that he would need to switch from tea and coffee to water for awhile. He felt his mouth twist in displeasure and was prepared to meditate again when he felt his phone vibrating at his ankle. L huffed as he rummaged for it in his pants pocket and flipped it open.

"That was _not_ part of the plan."

"I am sorry, Ryuzaki. I anticipated that Light might doubt you, and I chose to improvise on my own. I thought the effect would be more convincing if I did not warn you."

"Hm."

"Light is back at the desk working, so he cannot hear you."

"I assumed as much when you called me, Watari." L's tone was clipped. Though he recognized that his weakened state must have contributed to his responses, as well as to his feelings now, he could not shake the anger. Loss of control was one of few things that could embarrass L, and he was displeased that Light had witnessed it. _My deception on the roof had purpose, but this_ . . . L decided that he would have to find a way to make it work somehow. "So, how much did you put in my cake?"

"The laxative? Not very much, and only in the chocolate layer."

"Naturally."

"I considered the possibility that you might eat the whole thing, so I was careful not to incorporate too much of it, but the . . . effect might have been less dramatic if you had refrained from having more than one piece." Watari's voice was gentle.

"Mm. And yet, you know me well enough to realize that that was an unlikely scenario." L absorbed and reflected Watari's rebuke back at him.

"True."

L sighed. "Well, I will remain here for awhile longer, just to be on the safe side. And I will need yet another set of clean clothes."

"Certainly. I will be there momentarily."

L shut the phone. Though he disliked what had happened, he could not fault Watari's logic. If nothing else, at least Light now seemed more convinced that L was ill, since, in a sense, he was. And L knew he hadn't been the only one losing control – he was certain now that Light had nearly kicked him while he was on the floor. The gleam in Light's eye had been unmistakable, and chilling. "Murderer." L's own voice surprised him, and he narrowed his eyes. He could not afford to blurt out such things once he returned to the main room, and he closed his eyes to meditate again.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Respite

"Finally! Man, sometimes it feels like forever in there. Hey . . . where is everybody?"

Light didn't turn to face Matsuda. "Mogi went with my Dad to see what happened to Aizawa and Ide. We –"

"I know about that part, Light. I talked to them on the way down. I meant, well . . . nevermind. I guess Ryuzaki must still be in the bathroom." Matsuda looked around, not noticing that Light didn't respond. He saw the wet clothes piled on the floor, the Death Note on the table, and . . . "Wait. Where's the shinigami?"

Light's sigh was quite audible even from across the room. "I don't know, Matsuda."

Though Matsuda was feeling more and more like he was wasting his time, he was determined not to give in. He then noticed that Light's feet were bare and saw that his shoes were near the clothing piles. _What the – is Light picking up L's weird habits?_ Matsuda wondered. He opted not to ask and walked over to the wall-long desk, draping his coat over his chair, glad that he had changed his pants in his room before coming back down. "Well, I got a few different kinds of sandwiches, so help yourself." Matsuda took them out of the bag, setting each paper-wrapped sandwich on a clear spot on the desk.

"I'm . . . not really hungry." Light's eyes were glued to the screen in front of him

"Well, what the –" Matsuda abruptly stopped when he heard rustling behind him. He turned toward the sound. "Watari! I brought lunch – are you hungry?"

Watari looked up, his arm still in the laundry bag into which he was stuffing the discarded clothing. "That sounds lovely, Matsuda. Perhaps in a little while, thank you."

Watari's presence had a soothing effect on Matsuda. The main HQ room had seemed wrong in some way, more tense than usual, despite Light initially being its only occupant, though Matsuda had been unable to place why. Perhaps it was just that several smaller things had been out of place in addition to the danger now apparently looming over Aizawa.

He wanted to know what was going on, but was afraid to ask. Matsuda was sure that he'd missed more than just Aizawa getting into trouble, although that was bad enough. A chill passed through him as he considered the possibility that Kira had kidnapped Aizawa and Ide. _Oh, who am I kidding – Kira doesn't kidnap people!_ Matsuda thought; _Kira kills – that's what the name means_. Matsuda shook his head. _So much for positive thinking_.

Matsuda looked up to see L enter HQ from the hallway. "Hey Ryuzaki! How are you feeling?"

"Frankly, I've felt better, but thank you for asking." Hands in pockets, L shuffled over to his chair and climbed into it gingerly.

Matsuda strode to his part of the desk. "Here, let me get you a sandwich. Maybe that'll help you out." Matsuda picked up the one marked 'Special.'

"I somehow doubt that."

"Look, I know you feel bad, but you can't skip meals if you want to get better. I had them make this one especially for you! I tried to think of something healthy that would still be sweet. I used to invent sandwiches whenever I was at my cousins' house – my aunt let us make our own, and it was lots of fun." Matsuda's eyes were glazed with nostalgia. "One time, my youngest cousin made a cereal and peanut butter sandwich with potato chips and licorice, and one of my other cousins slipped some seaweed into it – that didn't go over too well . . ."

"Matsuda, please."

Looking down at L now that he was standing over him, Matsuda saw how pale and weakened he looked, eyes half-lidded, jaw slack. "Wow, Ryuzaki," he said in a quieter voice, "are you sure you shouldn't be in bed right now?"

"Whether I should be or not, I cannot spare the time." L leaned forward to sip some water, nose crinkling slightly.

"Well . . . if you feel like eating anything, give this a try. It's a fruit salad sandwich on a croissant with Nutella spread." Matsuda moved to place it on the desk but found L turning to him, eyes widened almost to their normal state, so he placed it in L's hands instead. A long pause stretched out between them as L held the white-papered parcel directly in front of his face.

"Thank you, Matsuda. That . . . actually sounds delicious." L began to peel open the wrapping, cautiously, as if the bizarre confection might escape or cease to be if he moved too quickly.

Matsuda stood there silently, somewhat stunned at L's gratitude. _He must be ill if he's being this nice to me_, he thought. Shaking himself, Matsuda took a step backwards out of politeness. "It's – you're welcome, Ryuzaki."

Moving away, Matsuda kept his eyes on L – he didn't want to hover, but he was curious if L would like it. He watched L take his first bite and saw his eyes actually close for a moment, the faintest of smiles stretching across his filled cheeks, the palest pink suffusing his face. He didn't need to ask – from the look in L's eyes as he opened them to the reverential way he held the sandwich to take another bite, Matsuda knew he'd chosen wisely. As he walked past Light, who was still sitting in stony silence, Matsuda suddenly felt a renewed sense of purpose.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Inhuman Bondage

The pull was like a living thing now, writhing inside her, though she tried to ignore it. _Just a little further . . ._ She could bear this, the strange mix of unpleasant sensations – the burning tickle and the dull ache that became sharp agony if she moved too fast. She preferred the pain over being close to _him_. It was worth it if she could see her. And if she could get close enough to reach out to her . . .

Straining forward, tethered as she was, Rem scanned the crowds of people beneath her. She was still too far up to make many physical distinctions between them, but their names popped out easily enough. Rem had noted which direction Misa had taken when she had left the building, but had deliberated her options too long – once she'd flown out of the building, she could no longer spot Misa on the street. Of course, the umbrella wouldn't have helped matters. Had Rem been watching from the shinigami realm, no physical impediments would have prevented her from finding Misa, or anyone else – not masks or hats or umbrellas or walls. Again Rem found herself wondering if she should have given Gelus' Death Note to Misa, but she clenched her jaw and resolved not to dwell on things which could not be undone. She had to find a way to warn Misa, to try and persuade her not to do as Light asked.

Rem hovered above the cross street, sweeping her head back and forth and focusing on the view below, her senses keening from the distance between herself and her Death Note's current owner. She drew herself lower, hoping that changing the angle of her view would help her see beneath umbrellas and awnings. She moved slowly, not wanting to involuntarily recoil and move back from the pain. _What if I have missed her_, Rem thought; _I must get some kind of message to her today – tomorrow may be too late_.

Craning her neck as she searched, Rem felt the hopelessness seep into her as the rain could not, the torrent passing through her phased body. A grey dove passed through her as well, and she blinked. Not at the bird, however. Rem squinted at the figure that had just exited the storefront, bags in hand. It was over a block away, and she had caught only the barest glimpse of a name, not enough to be sure of what it was, but the figure was hidden from view now.

A spot of pink in a sea of black moved outward from the building toward the curb. A yellow rectangle approached its location, and the pink spot . . . tilted. _There!_ Rem's eye was wide. Misa was standing at the edge of the street, her wisp of an arm flailing, apparently to hail a cab. The sight of a black-winged creature now hovering above the girl confirmed it – Ryuk could only be tethered to one person: Misa. For a moment Rem's heart sang, until she realized that Misa would be headed in the wrong direction, away from her. Even if Rem could get to street level, Misa was simply too far away for Rem to catch her before the cab pulled off.

Rem hung there like a forgotten sheet on a clothesline as the pink spot merged into the yellow rectangle, which then weaved into the stream of dark rectangles, taking Misa from her. It disappeared around a corner in less than a minute. Rem swooped once, the pain searing her, snapping her upward as she howled back at the wind. Trying to protect Misa had given her purpose, had saved her from apathy. Rem did not know what she would be without that. She could not fail now. She would not.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: OK, no more bathroom stuff, I swear! Some of that was just following though to the inevitable (actions have consequences), but some of it was just, well, real people have real needs and real (though unfortunate) bodily functions. Even shinigami are subject to certain discomforts – well, at my hands they are. That said, I apparently have a knack for putting characters in uncomfortable and undignified situations.

Oh, and that is a real sandwich – my brother invented it at a deli where he worked years ago. They were having trouble selling all the fruit salad by the end of the day and he hated wasting food, so he scooped some onto a croissant spread with Nutella and it ended up being a big hit. As soon as it became popular, of course, management insisted they use less fruit on the sammiches – _booo_ – but if you're making one yourself, go wild!


	10. Wrench

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: The slightest variation in choices can make all the difference. L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Finding even part of it could be a turning point . . . Slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 10: Wrench

Trailing Thread

"No, no, I told you. I was having lunch with a client and before I left, I saw her go in. Yes, I _am_ certain. No, I'm outside an electronics store now, in an alcove. Huh? Well, if I go in there, I'm likely to stand out. Because it's a women's clothing store. Very funny. No, not yet. Mhm. I was going to take the bus, but . . ."

He winced at the squawking emitting from his cellphone. "Yes, of course, but what then?" He paused, listening. "I see. I'll do my best. Wait – how far will we be pursuing this?" His brow creased slightly. "Yes, I realize that. I know. Yes, I know. But –" He stopped, still staring at the other storefront. "That's true, but the difference here is that we aren't being forced. I – Of course the threat is real, but my point is that we shouldn't be trying to do this alone. You made a deal –"

The squawking became pronounced again, and he began to wish he had not made the call. "I'm not suggesting you have a 'hotline' of any kind, but I'm sure if you contacted – what? What do you mean he's washed his hands of us?" He listened, eyes slowly growing wider yet somehow seeing nothing. "If that's true . . ." A woman pushed past him, entering the electronics store and anchoring him back to his surroundings. "I understand. Yes. No, I –"

A flash of pink caught his eye and he looked up with a jolt. The colors were so bright, they seemed to will the gloom of the day away – eye-searing pink with smiling flowers in red, orange, and blue sang out in defiance at the grey sky weeping down on them. He could see the face of the woman holding the handle to the cheery dome. There had been no mistake.

"I have to go," he hissed, "she's leaving."

Shimura shut his phone, cutting Namikawa off in mid-sentence. It was a strange stroke of luck to see Misa Amane so soon after Namikawa had warned them all of potential danger from a second Kira, but he was not sure yet if the luck was good or bad. As Misa stepped to the curb, Shimura turned up his collar and moved forward to find his own cab, hoping that whatever luck it was, it wouldn't get him killed.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Criminal

Threats held no sway over her – they rolled over her like bathwater, strangely comforting. She'd been on death row for years now. Every appeal had been rejected: self-defense, extenuating circumstances, temporary insanity. They had all rolled off too. Her conviction would stand. There was no question that it had been first degree murder. She had never denied it. Her lawyer had not put her on the stand for fear that she would implicate herself, but it hadn't mattered in the end. The results spoke for themselves.

Perhaps if she'd shown some kind of remorse in the courtroom, she might have been sentenced to no more than life in prison, but she had felt no remorse. Her husband was dead, by her hand, and she had been willing to accept whatever fate was dealt to her. Whatever else happened, it was at an end. He could no longer beat her. He could no longer force sex on her. He could no longer yell, or gamble away their money, or destroy their home, or drive away her few friends. Most importantly, he could no longer hurt their son. Her son.

Her eyes welled up, thinking of him, of the promise he'd held. His face, at the moment he'd realized that she was going to jail, tortured her to this day. She woke with it clearly in her mind as though it had only just happened, as though he was not now lost to her.

Safety – that was what she'd wanted for him. She'd done what she had to do, more to protect him than herself. Her mother had taken him in, just as she had asked. She'd felt that he would be better off. Doing what she'd thought was right did not change anything, however. She was a murderer. She knew she belonged in jail. If only her mother had still been as vital as she had in her youth, and not wasting quietly away, too tired to keep up with a growing teenager.

Days, weeks, months, years – they ticked by with nothing solid to mark them but the birthday cards she'd sent to her boy. _It would be better for him if he just forgot about me_, she'd thought, but she missed him. She had no money to send, and little to say, but she would enclose a new origami animal in each card. After the first eight months, he had stopped visiting her, but this did not alarm her. She'd expected it, wanted it, even – if it meant that he would thrive. What distressed her, what she turned her mind away from time and time again, was that he had turned out to have more of his father's qualities than she'd realized.

She wanted to blame the suffering he'd experienced at his father's hands, and she was willing to believe that she was to blame for setting a bad example. These things had clearly played their part, but a quiet voice inside her said that, to a certain extent, such things were inborn. _It does not matter_, she'd told herself. _He is still my son, my shining boy, my sweet baby_. She'd said it like a prayer, clutching her memory of him like a talisman.

It had been one month shy of a year now since it had happened. An accident, they'd said, but she'd heard more than that. The guards liked their gossip, and she'd heard their voices echoing down the hallway, chunks of their conversations sticking in her: "completely pasted," "should've looked," "right in front of everyone," and "he would've raped her." She still saw his face, as it once had been, brown eyes wide and welling, wisps of fuzz on cheeks still rounded with lingering babyfat, mouth open in shock as his mother was taken from him. And now he had been taken from her. The hope she'd held for him, for his future, had been the only hope she'd had left. With it gone, as he was gone, she felt nothing. She had not recognized hope as a burden, but its removal had been a relief, and she had closed in on herself like a flower reversing its bloom.

No longer had she returned her lawyer's earnest calls, or contacted her mother at the nursing home where the last skeins of the old woman's mind had been untwining. She had continued to eat only because she did not want to inconvenience the infirmary or be re-evaluated and transferred to an asylum – that would delay her execution. It was the only thing she wanted now: an end, finally, an end.

The waiting would be over soon. She welcomed her fate. If she could still feel, it would be something akin to contentment. And then they came for her, brought her to a man she'd never seen, brought her to a room she'd never been in. It smelled too clean, somehow. She looked dully across the table at the man as he explained. She was glad she could no longer feel, because her contentment would have been ripped from her as he spoke. She wanted to die. He offered her life. It would have been funny if it hadn't been sick.

"How would you like to help us catch a serial killer?"

These words echoed in her too, now. He said that what she would do, if she agreed, might kill her, but that if it did not, she would go free. No execution, no prison sentence – she would walk out of here. _How can he ask this of me_, she thought. As a punishment, life was much more horrible to her than death. And so she accepted.

The task was childishly simple. The man told her that once she completed it, she must remain in solitary confinement, in this same room, until they had their results. She nodded softly. Time still pinned her, heavy on her chest, each breath a penance. She would give up the release she sought in order to catch someone who had taken, and would take, many lives.

Perhaps they would execute her anyway – she was only a convict, after all. She had been expecting Kira to take her as she waited, but she'd always been overlooked, to her disappointment. So she did what she was asked and risked living because she did not deserve any respite from her burden. No truer a life sentence than to be sentenced to living.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Taking Measure

"I already told you everything! I didn't hear anything you said – asking me three more times isn't gonna change that!"

The silence pulsed for a few seconds between the men. "Let's go." The tall blond man half-turned from Ide. "We need to clear this area before we're tracked here."

Ide considered putting up a fight, but he knew this man outmatched him physically. Taller, stronger – Ide felt as though he was in the grip of a wall, if walls had arms. Ide shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. The tall man let Ide's feet rest fully on the ground again, and Ide noticed that Aizawa was staring at him, his hands still in the air.

"There's no reason to hurt him. There's no reason to hurt either of us!" Aizawa's voice was calmly indignant, but Ide saw the worry in his eyes and felt a tiny bubble of hope pop inside him.

_If Aizawa doesn't know what's going on either, then we're in big trouble,_ he thought. Ide had been hoping that Aizawa's connection to L might save them, or at least that the Task Force would help. Even non-rush hour traffic could be troublesome in Tokyo, though, so if they moved now, it was unlikely that the Task Force would be able to catch up to them, despite the text he'd sent. Ide wondered if he could stall.

"How many crimes have you committed that you're so sure you'll be tracked here?" Ide injected a bravado he did not feel into his words. "You can't keep running – they'll catch up to you sooner or later!"

The tall man regarded him coolly. "Later would be better." He sighed. "Bind them," he said over his shoulder. He let go of Ide's shirt, grabbed his wrist, and spun him around in one swift motion, and Ide felt cold metal suddenly pressing against his wrists, encircling them in two snaps. _They brought their own handcuffs?_ Ide marveled. _Who are these guys?_

Hands not his own were abruptly in his pockets, and Ide jumped at the touch. "Hm." Ide couldn't see the tall man, who was behind him now, but he knew he'd just found Aizawa's cellphone.

"What is it T— um, Bjorn?" one of the men said.

"Cellphone. No charge on it – not anymore, anyway." Ide could practically feel the tall man's eyes burning into his back. "It doesn't matter." Ide heard a clatter and crunch and turned his head in time to see the tall man remove his foot from the now crushed phone. "Everything metal on them stays here. Phones, flashdrives, watches, belt buckles – anything that could conceal or double as a tracking device."

"What about coins, boss?"

"Unlikely to be a problem, but it can't hurt to leave them here too."

"What if they have implants?" The European-looking sideman spoke again.

The tall man paused, thumb and forefinger pressed to his wide jaw. "Well, there's not much we can do about that here, so we'll have to risk it." He dropped Ide's watch to the ground and started working on Ide's belt buckle as his men did the same to Aizawa, who was grimacing more than usual. Ide really wished that he was still talking with the pretty, if unreceptive, nurse. _A thousand rejections would be better than this_, Ide thought as the tall man pulled his belt off, whipping it behind him and dropping it. "Leave their shoes, too," the tall man said, gripping Ide's arm as if he was about to upend him.

"I'll do it, I'll do it." Ide grumbled, not wanting to end up on the floor again like another discarded accessory. Standing on one foot and then the other, he pressed toes to heel to shuck the shoes from his feet.

"Glad you're being cooperative. We don't want to harm either of you." The tall man regarded Ide seriously.

"Yeah? Tell that to the side of my head."

"I am sorry about that." The tall man shot a look to his men. "That was unnecessary."

"All of this is unnecessary! You should just let us go – crimes against cops aren't looked on too kindly by other cops." Ide wondered idly if yelling at the man would get him knocked out for real this time. He hoped that he was at least buying some time for the Task Force to find them.

"It may surprise you to know," the tall man said, leaning in close, "that we are actually on the same side as you." He pulled back, regarding Ide thoughtfully for a moment. "Hurting you was unnecessary, but I'm afraid this is."

Ide found himself being turned and forced to walk past a tall stack of crates, behind which a black sedan was parked. As the two other men moved Aizawa along and opened the trunk, Ide knew what he was in for and met Aizawa's eyes with trepidation.

"I hope you two are good friends, because you'll be sharing close quarters for awhile." The tall man didn't have even the slightest trace of a smirk, and Ide wondered briefly if he was a robot as he and then Aizawa were loaded into the trunk.

A few moments after the trunk was closed with a thud, Ide whispered to Aizawa. "What do they want? Who are these guys?"

"I don't know – they kept asking me about Kira, and L. I've never seen them before." Aizawa gritted out.

"But –"

"Don't say any more – they may have bugged the trunk."

Aizawa's words left Ide in stunned silence as they started to feel the rumbling of the road beneath them. Questions crowded in on him, and Ide struggled for breath as though they were taking up airspace around him.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Falling Behind

"They're not here."

"That's not good news, Mr. Yagami." L realized that he was stating the obvious, but he was parsing possible scenarios in his head.

"That's not the worst part, Ryuzaki. Their car is crashed outside and some of their belongings are here – belts, watches, shoes, coins. There's a smashed cellphone – I think it's Aizawa's – and there is blood on the floor." Soichiro sounded worried, and angry.

"How much blood?"

"Enough to suggest moderate injury, but not death."

"That is encouraging, at least. Thank you, Mr. Yagami. Please photograph as much of the scene as you can, including the car outside and any tire tracks, and then collect all of the material evidence and bring it back here. We will need to analyze everything in order to find them."

"Ryuzaki, we need to involve the NPA in this. Aizawa and Ide may not have much time."

"Unfortunately, we cannot rule out the possibility that the NPA is involved."

"What?" Soichiro's voice was loud despite the tenuous cell connection.

"I am sorry, Mr. Yagami, but the fact is that their itinerary was known to the NPA. It would have been easy for someone there to have had them followed." L knew that the NPA would not have had Aizawa's and Ide's exact schedule, but if this abduction turned up any evidence he could use against Kira, he did not want to share it.

"You have no evidence of that!"

"Correct, but it is a plausible scenario. I do not want to endanger them further by potentially tipping off a mole in the NPA that we are already in pursuit, particularly since these kidnappers currently seem interested in keeping Aizawa and Ide alive."

"Ryuzaki –"

"Please, Mr. Yagami. As you said, time is of the essence. The sooner we examine the evidence you've found, the better our chances of finding them. If you use your cellphone's camera to send photos to Watari, we can begin investigating with you from here."

"Understood." Soichiro abruptly terminated the call. L was not surprised that the older man was angry. L was not happy with things as they were either.

"Are you sure the kidnappers want to keep them alive?" Matsuda radiated worry.

"Yes. They took measures to ensure that they would not be tracked, yet they did not hide that they had been there, and the blood left behind was a non-life-threatening amount. I'll know more when I see the photographs, but so far . . . I am optimistic regarding their survival." L wasn't sure he was explaining as clearly as he wanted. He was surprised at how much of a toll a simple laxative had taken on him. Had it not been for the sandwich Matsuda had brought him, he might be feeling much worse. "Though I cannot help but feel that the timing of this is a bit too convenient. It certainly works in Kira's favor."

"Well, it couldn't be Kira doing this – even I know that." Matsuda stated plainly. "Kira doesn't kidnap. Kira kills."

"But we know Kira can control people's actions before death, so it's possible Kira controlled someone to kidnap them." Light's voice sounded strange, as though he'd just remembered he had one.

"There are clearly limits to how much Kira can control people, Light." L allowed disdain to color his voice, if only to irritate the teen. "I'd felt sure you'd come to the same conclusion." L turned toward Matsuda. "If Kira could make people do anything he wanted, he'd have been able to send others after us much sooner than this, even if they did not know us or where we were. No, a certain measure of . . . feasibility must be required. The actions Kira can make others take must be within the bounds of possibility and therefore within their individual capabilities." L pulled at his lower lip. "Kira _could_ be a member of the NPA, but . . . whoever has taken Aizawa and Ide must have their own motivations. It is possible that their actions are connected to Kira – in fact, the timing of this is too much of a coincidence for them not to be – but it's not clear yet what that connection is."

L stepped down from his chair and started toward what he hoped would be his last bathroom trip for awhile. "Once we've analyzed the evidence from the scene thoroughly, we should be able to draw more useful conclusions." L paused and looked pointedly back at Matsuda. "We _will_ find them, and we _will_ get them back safely."

With Matsuda's face showing renewed determination, L turned and continued into the hall. The fact that the kidnapping had occurred after Aizawa and Ide had left St. Luke's Hospital, the same hospital Namikawa had told Soichiro that Higuchi had stayed, seemed too much of a coincidence as well. _Is Yotsuba involved somehow?_ L wondered. It seemed unlikely, but he would not rule it out. And if he could find a way to use this against Kira, he would – anything to keep dancing, to keep moving toward the truth.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Shouting at the Heavens

"Yuck, what a horrible day! I'm totally ordering dinner in tonight." Misa dropped her bags next to the dripping pink umbrella and flopped onto the loveseat.

Ryuk rolled his eyes, reclining on the couch. Misa's little shopping excursion would have been complete torture if he hadn't amused himself by catching the garments she'd tossed aside and 'helped' them along to land in less-than-optimal places – such as a shop lady's head, or another customer's purchase pile, or, most memorably, over a lit candle. Ryuk smiled a bit at that. Somehow, Misa had never gotten wise to what he'd been doing, always blaming her clutziness. And the shopkeepers always forgave her. She was Misa Amane, after all, so to have her in their shops was good publicity for them. So things had never gotten _too_ interesting, which left Ryuk frustrated.

"So what did Light have to say?"

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know." Misa folded her arms and looked away from Ryuk.

"Well, _yeah_, since I just asked."

"Well, maybe you would have heard for yourself if you hadn't gone off somewhere." Misa stood in a huff and walked over to her computer, sitting down with a thump.

"Oh, so you like it when I'm around and you're getting all lovey-dovey with Light?" Ryuk rose up and leaned over her, rubbing his hands together.

"Ew! No, I just – ugh, nevermind." Misa turned away, tossing her hair at him, and began typing. An ornately decorated website appeared onscreen, and she began clicking on links.

Ryuk wondered if she'd forgotten his question entirely or was just ignoring him. "Whatever. I guess you're right – I don't need to hear Light profess his undying love for you." He began floating toward the window, deciding he'd rather be rained on than ignored, when he was brought up short by a strange sound.

Misa had burst into tears and was sobbing into her folded arms on the desk. No pretty, delicate tears here – her body convulsed, her voice broken into anguished gasps, guttural noises, and the occasional snort. Ryuk had seen her upset before, as it seemed an all-too-common occurrence, but he'd never seen her like this. He wasn't sure whether to leave or stay. He knew he wouldn't be able to comfort her, even if he'd been so inclined.

"Uh, Misa . . ."

"Shut up! Shut up, you stupid shinigami!" Misa's eyes flashed anger from behind the flushed puffiness that threatened to close them. "You're supposed to be helping me, but you don't care! I _hate_ you! You don't do what I want, and you're always mean to me! Why won't you just go away?" Misa buried her face in her arms again.

"Wha- I couldn't go away even if I wanted to! You're the owner of the Death Note I'm bound to, so I have to stay with you – you know that. This wasn't my idea anyway!"

"I know! This was all Light's idea . . ." Misa seemed to be trying to master her tears. "His beautiful, wonderful idea to create a perfect world." The waning light left part of her puffed face in shadow, defusing her beauty, giving her a strange, bulbous look. "I thought you at least wanted to help Light with that."

Ryuk considered lying to placate her, or at least distract her. Then he considered being completely honest. "You know what? I'm basically along for the ride here. It doesn't really matter to me if Light's plan for a 'perfect world' works or not. I just wanna see what happens next."

Misa stared at Ryuk, her breathing almost back to normal. "And Light's really OK with that?"

"Yeah – like he has a choice. I only went along with this since he promised me you'd feed me apples."

"Hmph." Misa held her crossed arms against her chest, leaning back in her chair, and looked at Ryuk through her eyebrows. "Well, if you want Misa to keep feeding you apples, you're going to have to find a way to make Light fall in love with me."

"What? Are you kidding? That's impossible!"

Misa's sharp gasp was barely done when she threw a doll at Ryuk's head. "It is _not_ impossible! Light _can_ love me, and he _will_ love me! And you have to help Misa make it happen, or no more apples!"

"Wh– You're crazy! I'm a Death God, not a Love God! Light doesn't listen to me anyway – not that I can see him much, since you can only visit him once in awhile." Ryuk fervently wished he had flown out the window without pausing.

"I am _not_ crazy! And – oh! You must miss Light, too! I never even thought of that . . ." Misa almost seemed to forget that she was upset.

"Um, yeah, sure, why not."

"Hey I know! You could maybe serenade us when we're together and sorta set the mood."

Ryuk cackled. "With my beautiful singing voice? Sure thing!" He began a strange warbling howl, and Misa plugged her ears.

"OK OK! Maybe singing's a bad idea." Misa looked thoughtful for a moment, and then sighed. "Is there at least something you could tell Misa about Light that I could use to make him fall in love with me?"

_Man, this girl doesn't quit_, Ryuk thought. "Not really. The only thing that seems to excite him is the Death Note." Ryuk braced himself for more yelling.

"Ryuk! That doesn't help _at all_." Misa's scowl broke abruptly. "Hey wait – can a Death Note be owned by more than one person?"

"Huh? Um, I dunno." Ryuk figured that it was possible, but was reluctant to tell Misa this.

"Well, if it can, then Light could be co-owner of my note, which means you wouldn't be bound to just Misa, you'd be bound to him too, and then you could bring love notes back and forth between us!" Misa clapped her hands together, seeming pleased with herself, her still-puffy face making a parody of joy.

For his part, Ryuk looked as if he'd bitten into the rottenest of apples. _Why is she smart enough to figure out how dual ownership could work but not smart enough to know there's no way Light would go for that?_ Ryuk marveled. _Oh right, 'cause she's craaazy_. "Uh, I don't think that'd work."

"Well, can't you find out? C'mon, you're a shinigami – you're supposed to know this stuff." Misa narrowed her eyes. "You _do_ want to eat apples again, don't you?"

"OK fine, you win." Ryuk ignored Misa's squee of triumph. "I really don't know if Death Notes can be shared that way, and I can't go back to the shinigami realm as long as any human owns my note, but . . . I can see if I can get another shinigami to tell me."

"Oooh! You can ask Rem!" Misa's eyes brightened.

"Well, yeah, I can wait and ask her the next time we're visiting Light. Or . . . I could see if another shinigami will answer me right now."

Misa's eyes grew even wider. "You can do that?"

"Honestly, I've never tried, but it's worth a shot, right?" Ryuk cocked his head to one side.

"Would Misa be able to see them too?" Misa seemed excited by the idea.

"Eh, not unless they wanted you to, but I doubt they would. They may not even talk to _me_ with you nearby – most shinigami don't like the human world at all. That's why me and Rem are the only ones down here."

"Aw – that's no fun." Misa pouted.

"Yeah, those guys are boring." Ryuk shrugged.

"Well, that's something we can agree on, Ryuk." Misa sat up straighter and looked at Ryuk expectantly. "Are you going to try and contact them here?"

"Actually," Ryuk said, nodding his head toward the window, "I was gonna fly up as high as I can and try to get their attention. There's a better chance they'll respond that way."

"OK . . ." Misa sounded disappointed. "Good luck then." She turned back to her computer.

Ryuk flew through the wall out into the deluge, missing Misa's heavy sigh as she stared at her hands in her lap. He flew up high, landing on the roof of her building, knowing it didn't really matter where he was, but glad to be away. He had no intention of asking any shinigami about Death Note co-ownership – he knew it could happen. His mind had already turned to a previous suggestion.

"This probably isn't gonna work . . ." Ryuk muttered to himself. "_He_ wouldn't care; she _definitely_ wouldn't care; I don't wanna talk to _him_ . . . _she_ would probably kill them all just to spite me; and _those_ guys won't do anything. That leaves . . ." Ryuk sighed. "Can't believe I'm doing this."

Ryuk took a deep breath and shouted at the sky, waving his arms. "Midora! Hey, Midora! Come down here and talk to me – I have a proposal for you! _Midora!_" Ryuk hoped that making an ass out of himself in front of the other shinigami would be worth it.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: There are cameras in Misa's apartment, but no bugs. Pity, isn't it? I don't know if you've guessed who's taken Aizawa and Ide yet, but no worries, that'll be revealed soon. I think I made it fairly obvious who the person in Criminal was, but if you aren't sure, just ask me.


	11. The Soul Is Its Own Landscape

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: By touching the other Death Note, L is able to see Ryuk, and he has a proposal for him. What else will change? Post-Higuchi; slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 11: The Soul Is Its Own Landscape

Drive

The tension was palpable as he guiltily eyed the package between them. Though they had moved as quickly as possible, completing their task as instructed, sunlight was now dimming in the still-stormy sky. Nothing was resolved, and it felt trivial to worry about something going to waste, but the thought nagged. Perhaps it was simply easier to face than his other thoughts.

"Please, just take it, Mogi."

He jumped at the sound of Soichiro's voice, low but close in the car. "Sorry, Chief. Aren't you hungry?"

"Not really, no." The light slanting in from the other cars as they passed put the lines on Soichiro's face in sharp relief. "I have to be careful of what I eat. Sachiko will have a warm meal for me tonight – don't worry about me."

Mogi hesitantly took the wrapped sandwich that Soichiro had never opened. "Alright. Thank you, Chief."

He was surprised that Soichiro intended to go home, considering that Aizawa and Ide were still missing, but Mogi did not want to mention it and possibly upset him. He knew that Soichiro felt personally responsible for the men working under him. Though he'd never heard him mention Ukita after he'd died, Mogi knew Soichiro was still burdened with guilt just from the way he winced whenever Aizawa mentioned the man. This from someone who had launched himself from his hospital bed, stolen a bus, and crashed it through the doors of the TV station to stop more murders from happening. In Mogi's opinion, Soichiro had no reason to feel guilty, for he had taken quick and righteous action, but he knew that feelings did not follow logic.

"Do you believe this is Kira's doing?" Soichiro spoke into the silence, not noticing that Mogi's mouth was full. "Or that the NPA might be involved?" Soichiro's mouth twisted, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

Mogi took the time to swallow, thinking carefully. "I don't know, Chief. It seems weird . . . almost too convenient. It doesn't seem like the kind of thing Kira would do. Of course, we're dealing with a completely new Kira, so it's possible this is part of a pattern change, like when Higuchi started killing people to benefit Yotsuba." Mogi dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. "About the NPA being involved . . ." Mogi turned to look out the side window at the buildings slowly slipping by. "I don't want to believe it. But Ryuzaki's right – we can't rule it out, not yet. Higuchi died right in front of us. What if the NPA was infiltrated by the second Kira? Since the power can pass from person to person, it could have passed to someone in the NPA around the same time it was passed to Higuchi."

"We still can't be certain who held the power before it was passed on." Soichiro put in.

"Yeah." Mogi swallowed. "The shinigami won't tell us any of that." Mogi tried to regain his train of thought. "But if someone in the NPA had a Death Note, that person could have helped Yotsuba convince the NPA not to pursue Kira. They could have been there when we arrested Higuchi – and killed him to stop him from telling us anything." Mogi's eyes were distant as he continued thinking of the possibilities, the same ones that had been roiling in his brain since Soichiro's last conversation with L. He didn't notice Soichiro nodding his head, jaw clenched.

"Yes, Mogi, that is what I have been thinking too, as much as it pains me to even consider that Kira, or a Kira, might be among the NPA. There is something that worries me more, however."

Mogi froze, wondering if Soichiro himself had begun to suspect his son. The events of the day had given Mogi cause to wonder about Light, but he kept quiet and waited for Soichiro to explain.

Soichiro's eyes darted over to Mogi and then back to the road. "What if one of the Kiras was always among the NPA?"

Goggling at Soichiro for a moment, Mogi frowned, dropping his eyes to the half-eaten BLT in his lap. "That . . . would be bad."

Soichiro nodded once, keeping his eyes on the road. "I don't want to tell the others that yet, but . . . we may have to keep it in mind."

Mogi dwelled on the implications, suddenly no longer hungry either.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Taut

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, I am certain. I will make sure that we do not reveal anything unnecessarily." L's eyes darted to Light, who blushed and gritted his teeth.

"Alright then, I'll dial him and we'll listen in," Watari said.

L had squashed Light's argument that Light should call Namikawa for the sake of consistency, telling Light that he didn't want Namikawa to trick him into revealing anything as he had when they were moving in on Higuchi. L had then pointed out that he was perfectly capable of impersonating himself.

"Hello?" Namikawa's cultured voice echoed in their ears.

L pressed the voice modulator button. "Are you alone?"

There was a long silence. L fought back a frown, trying to be patient. A dull thud came through the connection, followed by the hiss of breath. "I am now," Namikawa said.

"Good, I –"

"You have a lot of nerve calling me, L." Namikawa interrupted, sounding angry. "I don't know what you expect from me, after you hung us out to dry."

L stole a glance at Light and Matsuda, who for once looked equally confused. "Well, for a start, you can explain what you mean by that."

"Don't patronize me – you know exactly what I mean. When were you going to tell us about the second Kira?"

_Interesting point to bring up_, L thought. "The existence of the second Kira has been public knowledge for some time, Namikawa."

"But the second Kira's picked up where Higuchi left off! And since Higuchi died – killed by this second Kira – the rest of us could be next!" Namikawa's normally smooth voice was sounding somewhat agitated.

L toyed with his lip, intrigued at the man's interpretation and wondering about its source. "I informed you as soon as I was able – did Chief Yagami not tell you this?"

"Of course he did, that's how I –"

"Then your question was pointless since you already have the information I was able to provide to you about this." L ignored Namikawa's sputtering. "Have you ever been to St. Luke's Hospital?"

"What? Is that some kind of threat?" Namikawa seemed thunderstruck.

"No, I'm simply asking if you've been there. Or any of your other colleagues, apart from Higuchi."

"Why do you want to know?"

"It should be enough that I do. Please answer the question." L waited, steepling his fingers in front of his face.

Namikawa's sigh rattled the speakers. "Well, _I_ certainly haven't been there, and I have no idea about the others."

A long pause seemed to indicate that Namikawa was unwilling or unable to elaborate. L leaned forward. "I want you to know that a credible threat from Kira has been made against the NPA." L ignored Matsuda's gasp and Light's sharp look. "Anything you can tell us regarding certain . . . events at St. Luke's Hospital would be greatly appreciated."

"You think the second Kira might be there?" Namikawa sounded surprised.

"I cannot tell you that." L kept his frustration to himself – the more Namikawa talked, the less likely it seemed that he or Yotsuba was behind the kidnapping of Aizawa and Ide. Keeping him jumping at shadows would only go so far.

"Our lives are in danger too!"

"No, I do not believe that this Kira will target you – certainly not until after the police have been taken care of, and I mean to prevent that. Are you sure you have no information to share with me?"

L could nearly feel Namikawa rolling his eyes. "Not at this time, no. I can ask my 'colleagues' if they've had any experiences at St. Luke's. How shall I get back in touch with you?" Namikawa's voice dripped sarcasm.

"I'll contact you tomorrow. Goodbye." L terminated the call. "Well, that was . . . mostly a waste of time," L admitted aloud.

"I could have told you Namikawa wasn't behind the kidnapping." Light gave L a withering look before turning quickly away.

"Really. Do you know something about it that you are not sharing?" L stared pointedly at Light as Matsuda took an involuntary step back.

"What? No! I've been here this whole time – I found out when you did!" Light's fists were clenched, knuckles white. "It wouldn't make sense for me to abduct Aizawa and Ide, even if I could have."

L continued to stare at Light, unflinching. "I needed to rule out the possibility that Yotsuba was involved. Now that I have, we can move on to better leads. And for the record, I do not believe that you are behind the kidnapping either. You shouldn't be so defensive, Light." The twinkle in L's eye went unnoticed by Light, who had closed his eyes in an apparent attempt to calm himself.

"Ryuzaki . . . _is_ there a credible threat from Kira against the NPA?" Matsuda asked hesitantly.

"No more than there has always been."

"So, you . . ."

"He lied." Light interrupted Matsuda.

"Hm, not so much 'lied' as reshaped the truth somewhat. Kira's actions have always been against the NPA, at least when they have opposed him. Namikawa's reaction told me that he has no salient information, and that's all I needed to know." L almost hoped that Light would argue with him further, but noted that he was keeping quiet for now.

"Well, now that that's out of the way . . ." Matsuda said, looking around, "what should we do next?"

"Next . . . I'm afraid we're going to have to wait for Mr. Yagami and Mogi to return with the evidence from the scene." L looked up toward one of the cameras. "Watari, do we have the tools we need?" L sipped at his water, not relishing the absence of flavor.

"We do not have all of the equipment an NPA lab would have, but I believe we have enough for us to make progress on our own. And of course I can send certain things out if necessary." Despite state-of-the-art tech, the voice still sounded a bit tinny over the intercom.

"Thank you, Watari."

"Watari – is there something I can help with?" Matsuda piped up.

"I am about to set up some of the equipment in a room just down the hall. You may assist me, if you wish."

"Sure!" Matsuda said eagerly. "I mean, um, if I'm not needed for anything else . . ."

"Assisting Watari would be most helpful, thank you Matsuda." L faced his computer.

"Great! Meet you in the hall, Watari." Matsuda hurried away.

L couldn't blame Matsuda for wanting to escape the tension between himself and Light. L was finding it somewhat exhausting as well. _It's nothing I haven't already been dealing with_, L thought; _though it is promising to be a long night_. Impatient for more positive distractions, L gulped down his water, already eyeing the bowl of sugarcubes and the coffee cup at his elbow.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Doors Open

The aromas of carpet cleaner and exhaust had ceased to make any impact on his sense of smell hours ago, or at least what felt like hours ago. His left arm was fully asleep and his neck was killing him. The ride itself had been swervy, then smooth, then bumpy. By Aizawa's estimation, they were in a rural area, and given the way he was now tilted toward the trunk opening, they were headed up an incline.

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing!" Aizawa grumbled. "It's not your fault – we're going up a hill." Though Ide's knees in the small of his back were making him uncomfortable, Aizawa reflected that it could be worse.

The pressure stopped, and Aizawa breathed more easily. _If the change in tilt is any indication, we've leveled off_, Aizawa thought, _but the road's a lot bumpier now_. Gravity pulled at his head and then feet, giving Aizawa the distinct impression that they were rounding many curves on a rural back road. Abruptly, everything stopped, rolling them away from the back of the vehicle.

"Shh." Aizawa didn't want Ide to speak and either give anything away or block any of the sounds around them – ambient noises could be critical in determining where they were.

Cool, clean air shocked his senses as the trunk door was lifted open. Hands were quickly on him, pulling him out of the car. As he turned, righting himself stiffly and shaking the blood back into his arm, he saw the two men extracting Ide as well. The man who'd interrogated him stood a few paces away. _He must be pretty sure of himself_, Aizawa thought; _he's not even holding a gun on us_.

"Move them inside." The man nodded to the two others, who dutifully herded Aizawa and Ide toward a house, or more accurately, a hut, that Aizawa hadn't noticed at first. The hum from a generator and the scuff of their feet on gravel were the only sounds Aizawa could hear. Tall trees surrounded them, blocking the remains of the setting sun, and Aizawa wondered at the lack of birdsong.

"At least it stopped raining." Ide said. But the ground that crunched beneath their feet was dry – if it had rained there, it had been longer ago than that afternoon.

Once inside, Aizawa and Ide were made to sit on rough-hewn wooden chairs as the other paced around them, mumbling to each other. _It's just a matter of time_, Aizawa thought; _they're either going to negotiate our release with our superiors, or they'll kill us right here_. He closed his eyes, breathing softly and hoping that his family was safe.

"I know we've brought you a long way, so I'll get right to the point." The interrogator stood opposite them both, but directed most of his words at Aizawa. "We want you to work with us."

Aizawa stared at him, dumbfounded, but Ide spoke up first. "Are you out of your mind? You just kidnapped us! You crashed into our car, hit me in the head, questioned him, and then threw us in a trunk! Why the hell would we ever help you?" Ide was flushed, leaning forward. "You must think we're idiots."

The man exhaled sharply, but remained expressionless. "I doubt L would be willing to work with idiots."

Aizawa saw Ide gape and decided to speak up before he could. "I told you already, we don't work for L! We're with the NPA. And if you'd wanted to work with us, you should have asked. Kidnapping us was a mistake." Aizawa glowered at him.

"We had to separate you from the rest of your team. We've been chasing leads for months, coming to dead end after dead end . . . but then something interesting happened about a week ago." The man fixed Aizawa with a stare. "A man was arrested as Kira, and then died in custody."

"How the hell do you know that?" Aizawa spoke in anger, cursing himself silently for confirming the man's statement.

"I have some contacts in the NPA."

"Who are you? What do you want?" Ide looked like he wanted to throttle the man.

"I want you to work with us, as I said." The man dragged another chair over and sat on it backwards, arms resting on its back. "As to who I am, I've been going by the name Bjorn Borg, for protection from Kira, but . . . you can address me as Commander Rester."

The two men behind him were impassive and remained standing, silently staring just over their heads. Aizawa tried to process what he was hearing. "C-Commander? Of _what_?"

Rester looked Aizawa steadily in the eye. "I'll level with you, but only because we need your help. I'm in the US Special Forces, stationed in Okinawa, but I'm working a mission off the books. For a friend of a friend, you could say. I know that you _were_ working for L on the Kira case, and I believe that you are working for L now. I know for a fact that you were there when Kira was supposedly arrested, both of you." Rester glanced at Ide and then looked back at Aizawa. "I actually had a theory that one of you might _be_ Kira, but I've ruled that out now." Rester seemed not to register the anger being directed at him.

"Gee, thanks." Ide sneered.

"You're going after Kira yourself? What the hell are you trying to prove?" Aizawa wondered if Rester was actually trying to challenge L by beating him to Kira.

"Capturing Kira is not my goal, as much as I wish it was. It _is_ theoretically possible that completing my mission could help resolve that case. When I took this on as a favor to friend, I didn't expect anything to pan out. I did some research on my own, and my expectations were met. Then 'Kira' died . . . and I was able to talk to a man who spoke to someone resembling my target." Rester paused, his jaw set and his blue eyes glinting in the dim light of the hut. "My goal is to find Naomi Misora, whether she is alive or dead."

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Spy Games

"Look, I'm telling you – it's a secure building. There's no way I can just walk in and go up . . ." He stopped for a moment, listening. _At least the rain seems to be letting up_, Shimura thought. He shook himself, remembering to answer Namikawa. "I've kept an eye on the front of the building where she entered, but she could have gone out another way – I can't be in several places at once –"

Shimura bore Namikawa's typically acid response with resignation. Namikawa had initially been calm when Higuchi had been caught, even to the point of being philosophical about the inevitable downturn in Yotsuba's fortunes. Starting today, however, he had become uncharacteristically agitated, and Shimura was finding it jarring. If Namikawa was worried enough to lose his cool, the situation had to be pretty dire, considering all they had had to face before. The idea of a second Kira operating was bad, but Shimura couldn't understand Namikawa's sense of urgency – it did not make sense to him that another Kira whom they did not know would target them, especially since Higuchi was gone and they had stopped their meetings. In Shimura's mind, the six of them were in no more danger than everyone else.

"Really? Ooi's brother-in-law? That's great – then . . ." Shimura waited for Namikawa to finish, already tired of sneaking around and hiding in doorways. "No, I think it's too risky to ask him to try and put surveillance in her apartment – it's enough that the guy owns the building." Shimura looked around, making sure no one was taking notice of him. "Well, yeah, but we'd need her apartment number."

A sharp click sounded behind Shimura and he turned. A woman in her 50's was emerging from the shop side door where he'd taken refuge with a crinkled slip of paper in her hand. She looked up at him in surprise, still securing her clear plastic rain hat.

"Terrible day, isn't it?" Shimura managed a wan smile. "I'm just waiting for my ride – I didn't mean to startle you."

The woman looked sidelong at him and sniffed, pulling her coat fully closed at the neck. "You don't scare me – I know karate!" She then moved briskly into the rain away from him, not looking back at Shimura's stunned face.

"What?" Shimura spoke into the phone again. "No, it was just some woman. I know that. Look –" Shimura took a deep breath. "I can't keep standing out here or she won't be the only person who notices me. We need to meet and talk about all this in person –" Shimura looked skyward as Namikawa interrupted him again. "Yes. Yes, I know that's what you said, but . . ."

The bus he'd hoped to catch by now went by, a garish ad with a clown's face seeming to laugh at him from its side. "No! Whether he 'hung us out to dry' or not, we can't act on anything until we have new information and can agree on a plan! I have to go home and change; then I can meet up with the rest of you. Where –" Shimura paused again. "I see. Well, if he can pick me up, maybe – what?" Shimura sighed. "Yeah, I guess so. I can be there in ten minutes if he's on the way now."

Shimura put the collar of his coat back up and moved into the misting rain, walking toward the street. "Yes. Yes, I realize that. I agree. We – yes, whatever difficult decisions we have to make must be made together. We owe each other that much. Of course. I'll see you soon."

Relieved to be done with the conversation at last, Shimura closed his cellphone and pocketed it. He hoped that the meeting wouldn't devolve into a pointless shouting match. It felt strange to be the one reassuring Namikawa instead of the other way around. It was also strange that Mido would be the one transporting him to Namikawa's place, where the meeting would be held – Shimura was surprised that he wasn't there already, considering how close the two men had seemed to become. _Something must have kept him at work_, Shimura thought, hoping that his own absence hadn't been noticed, though the excuse he'd told his assistant should have been sufficient.

He looked straight up into raindrops for a moment and then turned a corner. _Hopefully this storm isn't an omen_, Shimura thought, _or if it is, not one for ill_. If things truly turned bad, Shimura was certain that there would be no shelter for them this time.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Comfort Divided

Wearying, that was the only word for it. This day, this case – it seemed like they were moving backward every time they tried to move forward, as though this was all part of some terrible dream. Soichiro remembered the dream he'd had two nights ago: Higuchi, dead in his arms, came back to life, his face warping into that of his son, mouth twisting with rage and derision, eyes glowing red as they stared up into his own, hands digging into him like claws. Soichiro had jolted awake, gulping air in relief – not just that it had only been a dream but that he had opted to come home that night. He had drawn Sachiko closer to him, burying his face in her hair at the nape of her neck, taking in the smell of her and her warmth as she slept. His love for her was so strong that he almost never spoke of it, thinking that it must be beaming from him like a beacon, lighting up his face, shining through the night, always finding her. He felt sure that she understood this and felt it echoing within her.

He had kept the details of the case from her, not wanting her to worry about him, or their son. He already felt worried enough for both of them – _maybe too much, if my dreams are any indication_, he thought. Soichiro frequently dreamed of being helpless, failing to protect his family, watching in horror as they were torn from him before waking, but this had been the first time he had dreamt his son was Kira. _Maybe it's because Light's name is now cleared and my mind is now grasping at new terrible things_, Soichiro thought; _just what I need, more irrational fears_.

The ring of his cellphone interrupted Soichiro's reflections, and he put the car in park before answering it. "Yes?"

He glanced at Mogi next to him. "Yes, we're both here – I'm sure you saw us pull in." Soichiro knew full well that one could not enter the HQ building's secure garage without being observed, repeatedly, if not continuously. "Of course, one moment." He placed his cell on the lid of the compartment between the two front seats and pressed a button.

"Go ahead, Ryuzaki, you're on speaker."

"Thank you, Mr. Yagami. I wanted you both to know that I have ruled out the Yotsuba Six as being possible perpetrators of this kidnapping."

" . . . Yotsuba Six?"

"Yes, Mogi," L responded, "the six remaining Yotsuba employees who participated in the secret Kira meetings."

"Ah." Mogi fell silent again.

"Mr. Yagami, you allowed Namikawa to believe that the second Kira is the one committing murders now, yes?"

Soichiro sighed. "Yes. I didn't want to explain the idea of Kira's power passing from person to person – I didn't want him, or anyone else, to panic. So I told him that the second Kira had never been captured, and that this person had some connection to Higuchi. It was all I could think of to persuade Namikawa that we did not suspect him while still explaining our urgency in the investigation. I'm sorry for not briefing you on that earlier."

"That's quite alright. Did either you or Mogi notice any unusual activity in or around the warehouse while you were gathering evidence?"

Soichiro blinked at the topic change. "No, not really. Aizawa's car was towed before we were finished inside, but I assumed . . ."

"Yes, Watari had that taken care of. That vehicle has been moved to a safe location."

Mogi and Soichiro looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "That's . . . good." Soichiro cleared his throat. "Ryuzaki, we should get upstairs with the evidence we've gathered – we can talk more when –"

"No. Or rather, yes, but only Mogi needs to come up. Mogi, can you carry the evidence bags by yourself?"

"Um, yes. I can." Mogi looked as confused as Soichiro felt.

"What's the meaning of this, Ryuzaki?" Soichiro said, his voice like low rolling thunder.

"We received a call. From your wife. It seems –"

"Why would Sachiko call you? She has my cellphone number . . ."

"She called Light, actually. She wants to see you both home for dinner tonight. From what we could hear, she seemed . . . concerned."

"Is she alright? Wait – nevermind, Light can fill me in when he gets down here." Glancing at Mogi, Soichiro nodded, and Mogi opened the door and began extracting the bags of evidence they'd collected.

"Light has opted to remain here, Mr. Yagami."

"What?" Soichiro felt his face redden. "Put him on."

"Certainly." A click followed, likely indicating that the phone at HQ was on speaker now as well.

"Dad –"

"Why aren't you going home, Light? If your mother called you, you must know it's important."

"Dad, she still thinks I'm away at that 'special internship' for school. I already told her there's no way I could make it home for dinner tonight."

"That's not the point, son. You could have –"

"I know, I know, I could have made something up, but the fact is that the investigation can't spare both of us right now, and it's more plausible that you'd be able to make it home than I could. Mom sounded a little worried, but . . . she didn't seem upset. She's probably just lonely."

Soichiro pinched the bridge of his nose. "She misses you, Light."

Light seemed to sigh, though it was hard to tell. "I miss her too, but I'll see her soon enough – we're going to solve this case, and then it'll be over! We won't need to keep secrets like this anymore."

_There are always secrets_, Soichiro reflected, _whether a need exists for them or not_. He knew that pursuing Kira had been the right thing for him to do and still was, secrets be damned, but he wondered again if he should ever have allowed his only son to have become so involved.

"Mr. Yagami?"

"Yes? What is it, Ryuzaki?"

"You spoke to me earlier about the importance of maintaining one's health."

"Yes, I did. Are you feeling any better?" Soichiro bit back his confusion at the seeming non-sequitur.

"I am, thank you. My point, however, is that you are no exception to this."

"Ryuzaki, I feel fine!" Soichiro ignored Mogi's raised eyebrow from outside the car.

"Indeed, and we should make sure you continue to feel fine. I haven't forgotten your hospital trip. I cannot think of a better thing for your health and well-being than a home-cooked meal."

It was as though his offhand remark to Mogi earlier had boomeranged back to him. Soichiro had merely meant to belay the younger officer's concerns – he hadn't really intended to go home that night. Not while his men were still unaccounted for. "Aizawa and Ide are still missing! I cannot simply abandon –"

"Mr. Yagami, you won't be abandoning anything. Go home, enjoy dinner with your wife and daughter. If you wish to rejoin the team after you've spent time with your family, then please come back. Otherwise, we will expect to see you in the morning."

Running a hand through his graying hair, Soichiro found himself relenting. "Alright, Ryuzaki, I'll go. I'll contact you when I'm on my way back."

"Excellent. We can pursue the St. Luke's angle tomorrow, once we've gone through the evidence you've brought. Thank you again, Mr. Yagami, and enjoy your dinner." Another click let Soichiro know that L had disconnected.

"Mogi . . ." Soichiro looked out the window at the other man, who walked over to him, laden with bags. "I don't know if there's some other reason for Ryuzaki to not want me at HQ – he may simply be concerned for me, as he says – but . . . could you keep an eye on things for me?"

Mogi seemed stunned. "Y-Yes sir." He started to turn away but stopped. "Chief . . . is there anything specific you want me to watch out for?"

Soichiro knew his tiredness was showing now and tried to put on a more positive expression. "It may be nothing, Mogi, and I certainly wouldn't ask you to go against Ryuzaki's orders. I just hate being kept in the dark. If there seems to be a substantive new direction to the case, or some new lead on the kidnapping . . ."

"I don't think that Ryuzaki would keep any of that from you, sir." Mogi seemed somewhat quizzical. "But I'll make sure you're in the loop."

Nodding, Soichiro breathed a bit easier. "Thank you, Mogi. I'll see you soon."

He watched the younger man trudge off toward the elevator with the bags before restarting the car. He didn't truly believe that L was deliberately getting rid of him, but "one never knows," Soichiro muttered to himself. Sachiko had probably just wanted to see her son – he knew how much Light's absence pained her, though she rarely said so. Hopefully seeing her husband would be sufficient to compensate. As he approached the exit of the garage, Soichiro dialed home to let her know he'd be there soon.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: I hope you guys don't think I jumped the shark by introducing Rester into the story – I know his appearance can't really be rationalized away as a consequence of L's decisions diverging from canon, but, well, I wanted to use him, and I did say this was AU-ish . . .

I'm trying to get further into the heads of these characters. Soichiro in particular was always in a messed up situation, but he mostly communicated via anguished/self-righteous exclamations, so I wanted to sneak into his brain and poke around a bit, but really, all of the characters are interesting once you dig deeper. I know this chapter was a little longer – I'm trying not to overdo that (6 to 8 pages per chapter is sort of what I'm aiming for), but page count isn't my priority. ;-)

Oh, and I've been spending more time handwriting my first draft than I have been typing/editing lately, so . . . I'm a good bit further along in my story. Still puzzling out the ending, but . . . to put it in perspective, this chapter isn't even the halfway point yet. O.o Hope you guys can hang in there!


	12. Gathering Storm

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: By touching the other Death Note, L is able to see Ryuk, and he has a proposal for him. What else will change? Post-Higuchi; slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 12: Gathering Storm

Poised

It was all set up. She would be breaking a few of her rules tonight, in a trend that should have alarmed her more than it did. Rule #7: Don't break into the same place more than twice. Rule #19: Don't harm anyone who has neither threatened nor harmed you. Those two were certainly soon to be toast. She didn't talk about her rules to many people – she found it was generally better if others didn't know what to expect from her. L knew about them, though. He knew, and he'd asked her to do this anyway.

Time was tying knots inside Wedy as she waited. The waiting was always her least favorite part. She brought the binoculars to her face and peered into the window across the street. Misa appeared to be eating from a white square container and talking with her mouth full, waving her chopsticks around occasionally as though she was dispelling flies. Wedy sighed. However strange or air-headed Misa seemed, Wedy did not look forward to her task. The instructions she'd received from Watari had been detailed indeed, but it wasn't her ability to follow them that she doubted. She'd been adept at dissecting frogs in biology class, for that matter, but she hadn't liked doing that either.

She scanned the street below, not seeing anything of interest – just people, scurrying through the lingering mist. At least she'd found a place to wait inside, out of sight, but that was one of her gifts.

Wedy's phone shook in her hand, and she stared at it for a moment. _Why is he calling me?_ she wondered, flipping it open. "Yes?"

The small room was quiet and muffled around her, and she kept her voice low, trying to sound casual. "Oh, nothing. What are you up to?" Wedy listened – one ear for her caller, one for her surroundings. "Wow, sucks to be you – I wish _I_ had that problem." Wedy gritted her teeth. _The only thing worse than a long wait was an unnecessary complication_, she thought.

"I can't tonight," Wedy said, "I – hey, can't a girl have plans?" Wedy hoped she'd hit the right note of offhand flirtatiousness. "Yeah, yeah – I'll take you up on that!" Wedy laughed, a short sharp sound. "Right, well, be careful what you wish for. Uh-huh. Talk to you later."

Even the clap of her phone shutting seemed loud in the room, though she knew it was unlikely she'd been overheard. Wedy had triple-checked everything. She hated interruptions – she'd only kept her phone on in case Watari had any updates, or possibly wanted to cancel the job. _No such luck_, Wedy thought as she raised her binoculars to her eyes again..

"Go to sleep, you ditz."

In the other building, lit by warm light, Misa laughed, and Wedy felt the universe laugh at them both.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Truce or Dare

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm serious."

"What the – did they hit you on the head too?" Ide clenched his fists and then remembered he couldn't feel them anyway, his wrists had been in cuffs for so long. "They _kidnapped_ us! You can't seriously be considering working with them!"

Rester and the two others stood in one corner of the small shack, conferring quietly as Aizawa and Ide spoke to each other in urgent whispers. "Ide, my gut tells me this guy is telling the truth, at least about what he's investigating."

"Yeah? Well _my_ gut tells me I should have had a bigger breakfast!"

"Look –"

"No, _you_ look! For the past couple hours, I've been thinking we were gonna die. This guy and his goons crashed into us and tossed us in a trunk. I can't just turn on a dime and go 'Oh OK, let's be pals and work together.' Nothing they've done makes me wanna trust them!"

"Whether we trust them or not, our best bet is to play along. As long as we don't reveal anything compromising about what we've been working on, we could gain some information that could lead us to Kira." Aizawa's eyes flashed.

Ide was still dubious. "You actually think searching for this woman will get us anywhere?"

Aizawa glanced quickly at Rester's back and leaned closer to Ide. "It was widely assumed that Naomi Misora committed suicide after the death of her fiancé, Raye Penber – even I believed that – but," Aizawa's voice dropped to an even lower whisper, "L _knew_ her and said she wasn't the type."

Ide's eyes widened and then narrowed. "Is that one of those things I'm not supposed to know?"

"Frankly, I don't care if it is. I need you to understand why this could benefit the case." Aizawa leaned in again. "It's possible Kira got to her."

Ide's mind reeled a bit from the new information, and he inhaled sharply. "Wait – even if that's true, these guys haven't found squat on her, and they've been –"

"But _we_ know things they don't. Even if we don't tell them anything, we'll be able to see what they find with more . . . perspective." Aizawa took a deep breath. "If they're lying, we'll figure that out on the fly. At least by working with them, we can get them to unbind us and maybe gain their trust, get them to reveal what they _do_ know."

"That sounds kinda like something L would do." Ide scowled.

"Yeah, well, the thing about _him_ is . . . sometimes he's right."

"Ha!" Ide sneered at his friend. "The great L only _sometimes_ right?" Ide ignored Aizawa's shushing. "That's not what we mere mortals are supposed to believe. I bet –"

"Shut up!" Aizawa's voice nearly reached normal speaking level, and Rester glanced over his shoulder at them before turning back to his men. "Stop talking about L – we don't want them to infer anything. If we keep our heads down, we could learn something important."

"And then what?" Ide glared.

"Well," Aizawa sighed, "we figure out a way to lose them or get a message out."

Ide had had enough. He'd gotten a message out, and it hadn't done them any good. "Hey Rester!" Ide's shout was a shock to the room.

Rester turned slowly, his expression blank. "Yes?"

"What if we say no?" Ide's stared at him, fire in his eyes to contrast the icy cool of those he was meeting.

"Dammit, Ide . . ." Aizawa grumbled under his breath.

"Well, we can't force you to work with us, so if you say no . . ." Rester moved toward them into the small pool of light under the single bulb. "We'll have to leave you here."

Ide gaped at him. "You'll leave us here to _die?_ What –"

"No, no." Rester almost seemed about to smile for a moment. "I'm sure that the rest of your team would find you here in a reasonable amount of time, even if we concealed your whereabouts. However, we would transmit the coordinates of your location to make sure that you'd be safely found."

"Yeah right – you expect us to believe that?"

"I can understand your reluctance." Rester nodded his head solemnly. "We haven't earned your trust, so it's a lot to expect you to take me at my word." Rester looked straight into Ide's eyes. "But I have already taken steps to ensure your safety, and I will do my best to keep you both from harm."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aizawa interjected, causing Ide to wonder how he'd read his mind. "How did you 'ensure' our safety?"

"I've told you more than I should have already . . ." Rester rubbed his forehead as if attempting to flatten the ridges there.

"Do you want to earn our trust or what?" Ide leaned forward.

Rester looked from one man to the other, his eyes seeming to search them. "I have reason to believe that Kira is a member of your team."

Ide goggled at Rester before turning to Aizawa, who had gone pale. In contrast, Ide felt himself flush and turned back to Rester, eyes narrowed. "Fine. We'll work with you." The words were out of his mouth before he'd finished thinking them.

Rester seemed taken aback, and looked at Aizawa. "And you?"

Aizawa spared Ide a sidelong glance. "Yeah, I'm in."

"Good." Rester seemed relieved. "John, Tetsuo, get their cuffs off." Rester's men approached and removed the handcuffs. "We have a few things to go over with you; then we'll need to get moving."

Ide and Aizawa rubbed their wrists, the feeling starting to return to them. "The first thing we need to do is contact our team and let them know we're alright," Aizawa said.

"That would endanger you again," Rester said, frowning.

"If one of them is Kira . . ." Ide left the thought unfinished.

"'If' is the key word here – we don't know that." Aizawa was firm. "Whether that's true or not, they will be looking for us. It'll be better if we tell them we're OK and that we're pursuing a lead. Otherwise, we'll have to split our efforts between investigating this and eluding them."

"Will they believe you?" Rester asked.

"Yeah, they'll believe me," Aizawa responded. "Just don't do anything stupid like try and trace the call – they'll know."

Rester seemed lost in thought. "Understood. John?" The more European-looking man walked over and handed Rester something, which he then handed to Aizawa. "Use this."

"Hey, that's my cell!" Ide blurted out. "I left that in the car!"

"Well, that's where we found it." Rester raised an eyebrow. "We'll have to destroy it after the call is completed in case they try to trace us." Rester looked over at Ide's groan. "We'll get you both new cellphones. It's the least we can do."

"That's for sure." Ide grumbled as Aizawa backed away and started dialing.

This had not been the kind of day Ide had been expecting. He looked at Aizawa, remembering all the trust he'd put in him, wondering if things had changed or if things had never been what they'd seemed. Ide was determined to discover the truth, whatever it meant for him or anyone else. From the moment he saw Aizawa's reaction to Rester's assertion that Kira was among their 'team,' he knew that Aizawa had heard such an accusation before – recognition, shock, and fear was written on his face. That meant there was some credence to Rester's statement, there had to be. _I'll find out the truth even if it costs me my life_, Ide thought, _even if the worst is really true and L is Kira_.

"Hi, please connect me to Asahi. This is Suzuki, and I have important information regarding Kira."

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Best-Laid Plans

"I agree this is unsavory, but we are in too much danger to take no action. Anyway, it's decided now, and with the scheduling details worked out . . ."

"I realize that, and I don't mean to belabor the point, but . . . it was _different_ before. We were forced to bend to Kira's will. This action we're taking . . . this is our choice."

"That is where you're wrong, my dear Shimura – this is exactly the same. Kira is forcing our hands, and so is L. The only difference is that this time we're taking action against Kira instead of being pawns for either Kira or L." Namikawa gestured dismissively. "You already agreed to our plan, so debating this is pointless."

Shimura sighed. "I didn't say I wouldn't go along with it. I'm just saying that we need to acknowledge responsibility for our actions here."

"We are no more or less responsible than anyone else in this," Namikawa drawled.

Shimura dropped his eyes and turned to the door, face impassive. "So you say. See you tomorrow."

The door closed behind him and Namikawa watched through a sliver of window as Shimura made his way down the long driveway to the waiting cab. "Well, that took less time than I thought it would."

"He had a point, you know," Mido said softly, handing Namikawa his cup of tea.

"Ugh – he worries too much." Namikawa saw Mido's eyebrows go up. "Oh, don't give me that look."

Mido shook his head slightly as they sat down on smooth leather couches. "To be fair, we've all been a little worried today."

The men were quiet as they sipped. A small crease split Namikawa's brow. "Do you believe I am overreacting?"

Mido paused, considering. "I think panic may have influenced your thinking earlier today, but given the circumstances, that was understandable. You're calmer now, in any event."

Namikawa looked away. "Do you think we're making a mistake?"

Mido took another sip. "No. Our course of action is the only one that makes any sense right now. We need answers, and this is our best chance to get them. You know I wouldn't have agreed to go along with this if I didn't believe that."

"Not even just to please me?" Namikawa was flippant.

"No, not even then." Mido smiled, and then stared into his cup, his expression seeming to slip away into it. "I do worry that we've placed too much . . . weight on Takahashi's shoulders. Subtlety is not his strong point."

"He shouldn't need to be subtle to be effective. As long as he follows the instructions we gave him . . ."

"Oh yes, he's always been good at following instructions." Mido rolled his eyes. "It would have been simpler for me to handle it –"

"Absolutely not." Namikawa set his teacup down with a clink. "The media connections you have through your father helped us set some of this up, but the other side of that coin is that you would be immediately recognized. I expect L to figure out what we're doing at some point, but I don't want him to know until _after_ we get what we need." He took a deep breath. "What you've done already has been invaluable. Let's not take any more risk than we have to."

"Risk?" Mido raised an eyebrow. "As you said before, we're already at risk whether we take action or not. And if anything, I would have been taking less of a risk than Takahashi will be – my contacts actually _like_ me, and a number of them fear my father. They would be reluctant to report anything."

"It's not _your_ contacts I'm worried about. L has his own contacts, and who knows who they are or what they're doing." Namikawa absently rubbed his chin.

"Are you worried that L will take me from you?" A wry smile toyed at Mido's lips as Namikawa's head snapped to face him.

"Very funny. You know what I mean." Namikawa regarded Mido seriously. "Your life could be in danger."

"_All_ of our lives are in danger." Mido reflected Namikawa's serious tone back at him, and then leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs. "Of course, you're the one with the direct connection to L – is there something I should know?"

"Remind me why I put up with you." Namikawa's sarcastic tone contrasted with the warmth in his eyes.

"Because I put up with you." Mido grinned boyishly, eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

Namikawa's mock-glare broke as he laughed. "True enough." He stood, taking their teacups in his hands and heading into the kitchen. "Are you staying?"

Namikawa's question sounded offhand, but Mido knew it was anything but. "That was my intention, yes."

Mido took up some of the remaining dishes left after the meeting and walked into the kitchen with them. Namikawa was running water, and Mido moved to reach around him, placing the dishes in the sink, warm water and suds running over porcelain and flesh. As Namikawa leaned back against him, Mido knew that it would be some time before they finished the dishes.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Caution

"Hmm, that was . . . unexpected."

"Unexpected? _That's_ an understatement. And if _you're_ surprised by this, then –"

"Do you think the kidnappers made them say that, Ryuzaki?" Light interrupted Matsuda.

L looked at the ceiling, his forefinger moving from his lip to his chin. "No, actually. Aizawa did not seem to be under duress, and based on how he responded . . . I would say that he believes that he and Ide are in no immediate danger, and that he is playing along with his captors in order to gain information."

"But – we can't just let them go!" Matsuda interjected. "Whatever the kidnappers said, they can't be trusted!"

"Correct, they cannot, and Aizawa seems to know that." L nodded absently. "I am inclined to trust his judgment on this."

"So . . . we're just giving up?" Matsuda's mouth hung slightly open, eyebrow twitching.

"We're letting Aizawa and Ide proceed. We _will_ still process the evidence we recovered from the scene, however." L turned from his computer to face them. "We still need to know who these people are to determine their true motivations. If we discover anything that directly contradicts the impression Aizawa gave us and shows that he and Ide are in danger, we will need to intervene."

Light wore his signature scowl, Matsuda's head tilted, and Mogi nodded and took a deep breath. Watari thought that they had accepted L's explanation rather easily, though he noticed that L still seemed tense – it would take a practiced eye to see the signs, but Watari's eye was practiced indeed. He thought perhaps that L didn't fully agree with what he'd just said.

"We need to let the Chief know."

"I quite agree, Mogi." L nodded once at him. "Would you please call him?" L adjusted in his seat as Mogi dug his cellphone out of his pocket.

"Ryuzaki, I should be the one to call – he _is_ my Dad." Light sat up a bit straighter.

"I think Mogi should call. It will be more plausible for him to make contact regarding something work-related. Mr. Yagami dislikes having to lie, so this will be easier on him. I am concerned for his health, as I said earlier." L looked at Mogi again. "If you could call him now, I believe his stress would be significantly reduced."

"Sure." Mogi walked away from the other three men and began dialing.

"I thought you just said that to get Dad to go home." Light said in a low voice.

"On the contrary – I very much value Mr. Yagami's input. I merely thought it prudent to allow him some respite to ensure that he will be better able to meet the challenges to come. I do not want him to suffer another heart attack." L looked at his toes. "And considering everything he's gone through . . ."

"_You_ put him through all of that!" Light's tone was sharp. "Among other things, you made him pretend to kill me! If he's under stress, _you're_ to blame."

"I do not underestimate my role in all this, Light, but you are wrong." L's eyes shot up to meet Light's. "_Kira_ is to blame."

"You're being –"

"Guys, stop arguing!" Matsuda interrupted Light. "We can all agree that we need to make sure the Chief is taking good care of his health, but –"

"We have a problem." Mogi interrupted Matsuda's interruption and all eyes turned to him. "Chief Yagami is no longer at home."

"What?" Matsuda seemed to express the surprise on all of their faces. "Is he . . . coming back here?"

Mogi sighed heavily. "I called his home phone when he didn't answer his cell. His wife said she thought she heard him say something about 'visiting a friend' at St. Luke's Hospital."

L's eyes narrowed somewhat. "So much for a relaxing evening at home – it seems he's following up on leads without us."

"I'll go to St. Luke's and see if he's there." Mogi volunteered.

"Actually, no. Please stay here. Matsuda, could you do that instead?"

"Wha – me? Well, um . . . yeah, of course!" Matsuda stood up a little straighter. "You can count on me, Ryuzaki!"

"Excellent. Thank you, Matsuda. Please take one of the cars and report back once you've located Mr. Yagami. Let him know that the situation with Aizawa and Ide has changed." L steepled his fingers.

"You got it!" Matsuda bounded to the elevator and pressed the button to descend to the garage.

Watari watched Mogi watch Matsuda enter the elevator before turning slowly to face L. "Why did . . ."

"You excel at intense detail work, Mogi. Though I am certain that you would be equal to the task of catching up to Mr. Yagami, we need you more here, gathering information that will help us catch Kira."

Mogi nodded, seeming satisfied. "Understood. I'll get back to it."

Watari wondered if perhaps their resources were getting spread a bit thin, but resolved to let things play out as they were. If the plans had to be altered, they would determine how to proceed in the moment. Events were fluid, and he was used to having to switch gears. At least he'd finally received confirmation that the first part of one of L's plans had succeeded, the item functioning as expected. Before leaving his observation room to return to the evidence that had been brought back from the warehouse, Watari sent a confirming text to L.

Movement caught his eye as he hit send, and Watari turned just in time to see . . . _Rem?_ He was fairly certain he'd just seen her bony white arm fading into the wall. There was certainly nothing he could do to keep her out, though he was not sure why she would visit him. _More likely that she wanted to view these screens_, Watari thought; _I shall have to be more careful_. Watari blanked his screens and locked his station before heading out, opting for safety over speed this time.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Conflicting motivations are conflicting, heh. I'm not sure if I'll be listing all of Wedy's rules, but there are more. And yes, she is the 'cusses like a sailor but mostly to herself' type. You've probably noticed the lack of pairings in here so far – they're really not my focus for this fic, but as you can see, I couldn't help but put Namikawa and Mido together. They just seem to fit.

Quick shout-out and thank you to my reviewers! I really appreciate the feedback, though I never like asking for it. It's great to hear what you think, and I'm glad that you're liking what I'm doing so far. ^_^ (And Sonar, I love that you have Ide as your avatar! He's fun to write for – always says pretty much what he thinks, lol.) It's funny, I promised myself I wouldn't review any fics until I started publishing (and only broke that promise once, lol), but now that I'm writing and publishing, I haven't had much time to read other fics, let alone review them! ;_; I will soon, though.


	13. Second Turn

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: By touching the other Death Note, L is able to see Ryuk, and he has a proposal for him. What else will change? Post-Higuchi; slight AU; rated T to be safe. Spoilers through the end of the series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 13: Second Turn

Bound

The grass was green and springy under his bare toes as he reached down to yank a bright yellow dandelion out of the ground. Resisting for just a moment, the flower stem snapped into his hand like a licorice whip pulled in two, and he fell back on his bottom. The sun felt warm, and the breeze carried the scent of fruit and honeysuckle as he gazed into the sky.

A strange rumbling began and he looked around in surprise, the shaking almost ticklish beneath him. He looked down in time to see the ground crumbling and falling away at his feet, creating a growing hole where the dandelion had been. He moved crab-like, facing up on all fours, backward away from the hole as it engulfed more and more of the lawn, the garden, the swings – the old cherry tree fell in, followed by multicolored croquet balls, already seeming tiny in the growing maw of dirt. He kept moving, scrabbling desperately, watching in horror as the large house in the distance began to crumble and fall in too.

He hit something solid and swung his head around – an apple tree? He knew it didn't belong but couldn't say why. The dandelion was no longer in his hand so much as growing through it, thistle-like thorns piercing his flesh, seeming to merge with it, the spiky yellow flower silently roaring at him. Looking around, it seemed that everything had fallen away except for the diminishing clump of dirt beneath him at the base of the tree – an endless whorl of blue sky and a sun he could no longer see were his only other surroundings. He did not want to fall into the sky.

Taking a chance, he climbed the tree, his plump little hands with the bitten nails grabbing branch after branch as he ascended. He reached the top at last, bare toes gripping a rough limb, cool leaves sweeping across his face as he poked through them to behold a shock: the sun was no longer above him. It was below him, it had to be, out of sight beyond the bulk of the tree. He had to hurry now, before the sun was taken too.

As he tried to descend, the branches he'd grabbed then grabbed him, stretching his limbs. Wriggling, he looked to his right – his hand seemed to belong to the dandelion now, and it shot roots out from his fingertips to mingle with the tree, a thorny tendril encircling his wrist. He tried to scream but found no breath for it. The tree continued to pull as though he were the rooted flower, and he felt a tearing in his chest, knowing he was about to be wrenched apart.

L's short shout rang in his own ears as he took a ragged breath, swiveling his head to take in the room. No one else seemed to be present in HQ, and he unfolded himself from the fetal position on the couch to stand cautiously. He'd woken from worse dreams, but he would have preferred a dreamless sleep if sleep was to be had at all. L padded to the computer to check the time.

"Watari?" L waited but received no response. Ruffling the hair at the back of his head, he decided to check the evidence room rather than making a call, trying not to let worry infuse his thinking. _Ten in the morning is much too late to be waking_, L thought, though he was more concerned that no one seemed to be watching the monitors.

L forced himself to take a deep breath, holding it and then letting it out slowly. He consciously let the lingering malaise from his dream go, clearing his mind. Calm once more, he turned on the ball of his foot and started walking toward the hall. _Watari must have let me sleep_, he thought; _though it is strange that no one else woke me_. L reached out to open the door to the evidence room and stepped in.

". . . couldn't have been contaminated, so – oh, good morning, Ryuzaki." Mogi blinked in surprise and bowed his head respectfully.

"Good morning," Light said, not meeting L's eyes.

"Why do you think something was contaminated, Light?" L noticed that Watari was not in this room either and considered texting him. "Do you doubt your father's and Mogi's abilities to process a crime scene?"

"What? No – I just . . . there's stuff in here that doesn't fit the case." Light gestured at the array of plastic-bagged items on the table. "I'm betting that warehouse gets used a lot."

"Mm, yes. But that wouldn't make it contamination so much as non-relevant evidence." L turned to Mogi. "Did you find anything useful?"

"Uh, nothing clear yet, Ryuzaki. There's a third item that may give us DNA results, but as you know, those tests take time. The flakes of skin from the watchbands are likely to come back as Aizawa's or Ide's, and we've confirmed that the blood matches Ide's type, so we're not running DNA on those. We're processing a fingernail now in addition to what we found on Aizawa's belt and a food wrapper – Watari stepped out to get that started." Mogi took a breath. "Frankly, I think our best bet is trying to match up the partial fingerprints on the food wrapper and the phone fragments with the ICPO's criminal database."

"I agree that would be quickest – have you run them yet?" L felt more at ease now and was glad that he'd gotten some sleep, despite the dream.

Mogi's eyes were downcast. "Even the largest partial print brought back over a thousand potential matches."

"Hm." L moved to the computer in the room and brought up the images of the fingerprints onscreen. Tilting his head occasionally, L said nothing for several seconds and then began typing rapidly.

"Did you find something?" Light's voice was closer than L expected, and he found Mogi had approached as well.

"Not found so much as . . . assembled." L gestured at the screen. "I noticed similarities in some of the partials, so I put them together, like a puzzle. These two are clearly from the same finger," L said, pointing, "and these three are from a different finger, while these two seem to form a thumbprint. The others do not seem to fit, unfortunately, but the combination of the partials into larger partials should give us more to work from."

"That's great. I'll see what the database comes back with this time." Mogi seemed cheered by the prospect.

"Yes, please. Also, search law enforcement personnel." L paused. "And the military."

Mogi seemed taken aback. "We've already confirmed that none of these partials match Aizawa or Ide."

"You don't really believe that Kira is among the NPA, do you?" Light smirked.

"We can't rule that out, but that's not the point. I have reason to believe that one or more of the kidnappers is or has been in law enforcement or the military."

"What evidence do you have to support that?" Mogi asked.

"Evidence is meaningless without rational conjecture and, ultimately, context." L focused pointedly on Mogi. "In your opinion, would Aizawa agree to work with someone whose goals were directly opposed to the law?"

"No, definitely not." Mogi was nodding, eyes distant.

"That's not really much to go on." Light put his hand on his hip.

"Our understanding of individuals can only help us determine the likelihood of events." L spoke at the side of Light's face. "Pursuing and confirming the veracity of such likelihoods is what we must do to gain the necessary proof."

"I _know_ that." Light's eyes flashed to L's and then away as if the contact burned. "It's just that your 'conjecture' is a bit vague."

L was pleased to see that Mogi was not allowing the debate to distract him from starting the search of the databases. "Then I'll explain." L walked over to a chair near the table and perched in it. "Aizawa dislikes working outside the law. I know this because he has argued with me nearly every time I have tried to do so." L saw Mogi raise an eyebrow but continued. "Though he is willing to work with someone who . . . let's say occupies a bit of a grey area in terms of legality, he does not like it. In fact, he is easily agitated when he feels a line is being crossed." L put the knuckle of his forefinger to his chin. "I detected none of this agitation in his voice when he called."

"He could have been acting." Light folded his arms.

"Mm – Aizawa is not especially good at acting." L noticed Mogi suppressing a smile and took that as assent. "He followed procedure when he called and made sure not to reveal the identity of anyone on the Task Force, even going so far as to imply that we are not working directly with L, so these people have not won his complete trust, but I believe that _he_ believes they are trying to accomplish something positive. Also, given his tendency to focus on a single goal, as well as his tenacity . . . I suspect that he believes working with his kidnappers will further the Kira case." L watched Light, who had begun pacing.

"That's still inferring an awful lot from one conversation." Light stopped in front of the whiteboard, looking at Mogi's sketch of the warehouse layout.

"I don't see how my inferences here are markedly more numerous than ones I've previously made." L was reasonably sure that Light was only casting doubt to buy more time for himself, using L's own tactic against him.

"Maybe that's the problem." Light faced L, glowering.

L kept his face blank, silently amused by Light's attempt to bait him. "Mogi, what do you think?"

Mogi looked gobsmacked for a moment, seeming more reluctant than usual to speak. "Um . . . I think we should wait for the results of the database search on the fingerprints and figure out our next move from there."

"Excellent idea. Please call me when you get the results." L stepped down and moved toward the door, feeling their eyes on him. "By the way, have we heard anything new from Matsuda and Mr. Yagami?"

"Matsuda's been texting me," Mogi said, "and he told me he took the first watch at St. Luke's. He said he told the Chief that he'd wake him after a couple hours, but he let him sleep until after sunrise – the Chief was pretty mad."

"Mm. I understand how he feels." L looked over at where he knew the camera was. "I'll be in the next room."

L closed the door behind him and shuffled down the hall, scratching a spot on his lower back with one hand. He wasn't sure a stakeout at St. Luke's Hospital was strictly necessary, given the turn of events with the kidnappers, but the connection to Higuchi made investigating there worthwhile – at least, as far as the rest of the team was concerned. _At least I know where Matsuda and Mr. Yagami are_, L thought ruefully, hoping that Aizawa's judgment had been sound. L's thoughts still felt a bit fuzzy, and he rubbed his chin, noticing a trace amount of stubble. Entering the main HQ room, he considered going to his apartment before noticing the still-steaming cup of coffee, heaping bowl of sugarcubes, and large slice of cake – vanilla, with pink icing. He smiled, suddenly seeing nothing else as he moved toward it.

"No chocolate today, sorry." Watari's voice came over the speakers.

"How disappointing." L's sarcasm held no edge to it as he reached for his fork.

"It's from the same recipe for wedding cake I told you about." Watari sounded offhand, nearly jovial.

_So Wedy has completed her task and the tracking device is functioning_, L thought, glad that he and Watari had arranged a rudimentary code in advance. "I gather one would follow champagne with this?" L lifted a forkful of cake and plopped it into his mouth.

"Correct, Ryuzaki."

L let the sugar and caffeine work their magic on him, feeling a familiar rush of energy as he anticipated the day to come.

Caretaking

"No, no – I'm totally sure! There's no way I would have missed a pretty blonde nurse, believe me."

"Matsuda . . ." Soichiro's eyes seemed to say 'calm yourself,' and Matsuda blushed.

"Sorry Chief." Matsuda raised his eyes once more to stare at the entrance. "We already know the shift change was at 10:00 AM because we saw all those people going in and out around then, and we didn't see her last night, so . . . either she doesn't start until next shift, or she has the day off . . . or she maybe doesn't work here anymore . . ." Matsuda was starting to wonder if waiting in a parking lot all night was really worth it for one small lead on Kira, but he supposed any lead on Kira was a good thing to have.

". . . or she's running late." Soichiro nodded toward a young woman who was crossing the parking lot at a half-jog, holding her bag tightly and pulling a blonde lock of hair behind an ear.

"Well, let's go talk to her!" Matsuda got out of the car.

"Wait –" Soichiro's words were muffled as Matsuda shut his door.

_Finally something to do besides sit in a car_, Matsuda thought, walking toward the nurse. "Excuse me, miss? We'd like to ask you some questions."

The woman stopped, eyes wide. Matsuda may have been a rabid dog for the way she was looking at him. A door slam followed, and as Soichiro moved toward her as well, she took a step backward.

"It's alright. We mean you no harm," Soichiro said as he stopped, palms facing her, fingers up.

"Back off!" She pulled something out of her bag, her eyes darting between them. "I don't know who the hell you people are, but you better leave me alone. I'll use this, I swear!"

"Young lady, I'm sure you're aware that it is illegal to carry mace." Soichiro's voice was soft, despite the rebuke. "As I said –"

"What are you gonna do? Call the cops?" With a short laugh, the woman took another step back, defiance in her eyes.

"Um, we _are_ the cops." Matsuda stated plainly, reaching for the badge he'd gotten from Watari. "Here, I'll prove it."

"No!" Soichiro yelled at the same moment the woman triggered the mace.

"Gah!" The jet missed a direct hit into Matsuda's eyes, but it hit his chin and neck, causing the mace to spray over his face and shirt.

"Don't rub it!" Soichiro moved quickly to help Matsuda, who dropped his badge on the pavement as he fell to his knees, gasping through the fumes.

"Oh God . . . oh God . . ." The woman stared at them and at the open badge in front of her. Abruptly she was at Matsuda's side as well. "I'm so sorry – if I had thought you were actually the police . . ." She looked at Soichiro as all three of them choked. "We need to get him inside – I can treat him there. Please."

Soichiro nodded assent, grabbing the badge and pulling Matsuda to his feet. "You work here, then."

"Yes, I'm a nurse." She held Matsuda's arm with one hand, guiding him, and his badge in the other as they hurried to enter the hospital, pushing through glass doors.

"Terri! It's about time you – _holy_ –" The nurse at the front desk covered her face with her hand.

"It's mace – I'm going the back way." Terri rushed them down a corridor, calling "I'll sign in later!" over her shoulder. She made an abrupt left and they all piled into what looked like a large industrial washroom.

"Is this . . . a janitor's closet?" Soichiro squinted, looking around.

"Not exactly. This is where we clean some of our medical equipment, plus we have more than one eye station in here." Terri swiveled to face Matsuda. "OK, I need to wash the mace off your skin, so keep your eyes closed. Once the residue is removed, I'm moving you right over to the eye station. Ready?"

"I couldn't open my eyes right now if I tried." Matsuda said in a strangled voice. "So, I guess I'm ready . . ."

Terri worked quickly, leaning Matsuda over an industrial sink, interrupting her scrubbing occasionally to tell him to take a deep breath, heedless of water splashing everywhere. She then shuffled him over to the eye station, coaxing him to try and relax as she cleaned both of his eyes. Matsuda couldn't tell where Soichiro was, though he heard him mumbling from time to time under the sounds of gushing water. Even after the scrubbing and eye wash, Matsuda's face was on fire.

"OK, good, now give me all your clothes."

"W-What?" Matsuda was still trying to open his eyes without using his fingers and his nose stung, so he thought perhaps his ears weren't working properly either.

"Officer . . . actually, I didn't get your name." Terri's voice sounded sheepish.

"He is Officer Matsui, and I am Captain Asahi." Soichiro spoke up.

"Ah, thanks. I'm Terri Collins." She seemed to turn toward Matsuda. "I need your clothes because they're still covered in mace. Even if it's not on you, it'll keep irritating you if you don't remove them."

"_All_ of them?" Matsuda did _not_ want to parade around naked in a cold room in front of anyone, especially not a pretty woman he'd barely met.

"Well, the shirt and jacket and tie are all toast." Terri paused, her voice seeming to come from slightly further away. "And . . . yup, there's some on your pants too. Your underwear's probably fine, though. Here, let me – oh, damn."

"Now what's wrong?" Matsuda hated the quavery sound of his own voice.

"It's OK – there are usually clean hospital gowns in here, but I'm going to give you some clean doctor's scrubs to wear instead." Terri's voice sounded close again. "Let me help you with that."

Matsuda felt her hands moving over his, doing a better job at the buttons of his shirt, still soaked as it was with water and mace. "I, um . . ."

"Don't worry, Officer Matsui. I'm a fully trained nurse – I can handle a few buttons." There was humor and warmth in her voice.

"Oh, OK . . . sorry." Matsuda mumbled.

"No. You have no need to be sorry." Terri's voice was thick with regret now, and for a moment Matsuda forgot that she was undressing him. "I am very sorry I maced you. I should have listened to both of you – I just . . . reacted badly."

"Ms. Collins . . ."

"No, please – call me Terri," she said.

"Terri then. You mistook us for criminals. Why?"

Not seeming to notice Matsuda's gasp as she started working to remove his pants, Terri told Soichiro, "Weird things have been happening to me lately. Yesterday, well, at the start of my shift, these two c— uh, police officers asked me a bunch of questions. One kept looking at me like I had three heads or something and the other was way too flirty. Yeesh. Then a few hours later, someone called saying they were with the ICPO and asked me some of the same questions." Terri's voice seemed agitated as Matsuda stepped out of his trousers, shivering and trying not to fall.

"About a former patient?" Soichiro asked.

"Well, the two cops – sorry – _officers_ asked if I knew of any patients who weren't properly signed in and later died or any other unusual circumstances. The caller asked about 'unusual circumstances' too, but then started asking about a former patient from a few years ago. I demanded the caller's name then, and when I got nothing, I hung up. But the guy, or whoever, called me right back and said if I didn't cooperate that I'd be brought up on charges." Terri exhaled, short and sharp. "I knew there was no way a member of the ICPO would make that kind of threat but not say his name. Or hers."

"You . . . couldn't tell the gender of the person?" Soichiro sounded puzzled.

"Whoever they were, they used a voice modulator." Terri guided Matsuda to a chair and started redressing him in clean scrubs.

"Did you call the police?" Soichiro asked.

"I should have, but I didn't. I thought it was some crappy prank and I didn't want to waste their – _your_ time." Terri sounded embarrassed. "When I got off my shift, though . . . I walked out the door and was heading across the lot to my bus stop when Jane yelled out the door that Suki had found my cell in the bathroom. I turned and headed back in, and this car sped off out of the lot right in front of me. I think someone was following me."

"Did you see who was in the car?" Matsuda piped up, glad to be wearing something pants-like again.

"It was too dark. It looked like only one person was at the wheel – sort of a big person, but with long-ish hair."

"What about license plates? Did you see the number?" Soichiro was starting to sound agitated too.

"That's just it – there weren't any. Not on the back of the car, at least. It was a black sedan – no scratches or distinctive marks." Terri was putting Matsuda's maced clothes into a biohazard bag, he could now see through squinting eyes. "I didn't get any more threatening calls, but I didn't sleep too well, and when you guys got out of your car . . ."

"Oh jeez, no wonder! _We_ were in a black sedan." Matsuda would have slapped his forehead if his face hadn't already taken more than its share of abuse. "I'm sorry, Ms. – I mean, Terri."

Terri's face reddened considerably as she finished washing her hands. "No – please don't apologize." She walked back to Matsuda, toweling her hands. "It's going to be hours before the effects wear off," she said softly. "At least you didn't have an allergic reaction – that would have made it worse. I can get you an antihistamine to reduce the irritation." She bent down to look into his swollen eyes and placed a hand on his knee.

"Th-that's OK," Matsuda stammered as he felt her hand lift. "That stuff puts me right to sleep, and I need to be awake. Thanks, though."

"Terri, I know you want to sign in and start your shift, but we'd like to ask you a few more questions first." There was concern in Soichiro's voice.

"Sure." She straightened, dropping her eyes. "Ask away."

"What was the name of the patient the person with the modulated voice asked about?"

"Kyosuke Higuchi, Captain." Terri frowned, her head bent. "I'd forgotten him until I got that weird call. The patient had been in a bad car accident – multiple fractures and contusions, concussion, ruptured spleen."

"Hm." Soichiro nodded. "Could you tell me a little more about him?"

Terri shrugged. "He was really cantankerous, yelling and throwing food sometimes. Maybe he was always like that, I don't know, but . . . sometimes patients who've been in bad accidents can get pretty discouraged. I finally went in one day and said 'Do you want to die?' He just looked at me." Terri sighed. "I was like 'You crashed your car, and now you won't eat. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to kill yourself.' I started to walk out, but he said 'Wait.' He calmed down, actually said he was sorry. He was a lot nicer to me after that, even though we never really talked about what I said to him." Terri took a deep breath. "As a nurse, I deal with a bunch of patients all day – I care about helping them, but . . . if you get too attached, it's a problem. When it was time for him to be discharged, I gave him my standard 'Stay out of trouble' goodbye and that was that."

"Did you have any contact with him after that?" Soichiro seemed to be pacing.

"Well, he called me a couple of times, but after talking to him on the phone once, I just dodged his calls until he stopped. He kept saying he wanted to _see_ me sometime." Terri shook her head, still saying no to a ghost. "It doesn't make sense. Why would someone lie and threaten me just for info on this guy?" Terri moved her hand as if swatting a fly.

"I'm not sure. Our investigation is ongoing, so . . ."

"Oh my God! You don't think it could be him calling me again, do you?" Terri interrupted Soichiro.

"No way! That's impossible, he's –"

"_Mat_ – sui . . ." Soichiro growled.

"Sorry . . . Captain." Matsuda hung his head.

"It's . . . alright, I suppose. But Terri, I must ask that you keep this to yourself." Soichiro looked her in the eye. "Higuchi could not have called you yesterday because he is dead."

Terri's eye grew wide and she crossed herself. "That's . . . that's terrible. I had no idea." After a moment, she gasped. "Wait – your investigation . . . does this mean he was murdered?"

Soichiro paused. "That's part of what we are trying to determine. Is there anything else you can tell us about the threatening call you received?"

"Not really. The voice modulator thing, though – it reminded me of that guy from the TV announcements. You know – L?"

Matsuda felt his breath taken away for a completely non-chemical reason.

Self-Test

It had gone well. Everything according to instructions – smooth entry, quick exit. No complications. _So why am I chain-smoking instead of eating my room service pancakes?_ Wedy wasn't sure.

From the flowery, musky scent the place had had, Misa clearly liked perfume. It had been just as prevalent the previous times Wedy had gone there, first planting cameras and then later stealing paper – of all things – while Misa had been off doing whatever it was she did. But this had been different. Breaking into a relatively unguarded apartment was a cakewalk. Breaking into a living body was another matter altogether.

It had taken less time than Wedy had expected. The tricky part had been making sure Misa became unconscious without actually waking up. Wedy had done that sort of thing before, at least. Rendering sleeping guards and homeowners unconscious with gases or darts or even chloroform-soaked cloth was part of her repertoire. Normally, however, she didn't really care if people woke up knowing they'd been knocked out. She needed Misa to remain unaware of what had happened.

Even with gloves on, Wedy didn't especially like touching people – she wasn't a germaphobe, not really, but she disliked the casual intimacy of touch with those she barely knew. Pushing Misa's prone form so that she was face down on her lavender sheets had been awkward. Luckily, she hadn't had to remove the sleeping girl's nightclothes since her negligee left the required part of her back exposed. Wedy had rolled her eyes at the medical terminology used in her instructions – _simply saying "the hardest-to-reach part of your back" would have been fine_, she'd thought.

_It's a good damn thing my hands weren't shaking like this then_, Wedy admonished herself. When she had set to her task, she had had the distinct feeling of being watched, and not just because of the cameras she'd placed. Misa had a fairly disturbing bunch of dolls and stuffed animals, and they'd seemed to watch her like a rapt audience.

She should be napping now, catching up on her rest so that she could be ready for the next thing, whatever it might be – there was always a next thing with L. It nearly kept her honest, though she could still fit the occasional side project in.

Wedy lit another cigarette and wondered what Aiber was up to. He had been evasive on the phone when he'd called during her stakeout and had seemed curious about what she was doing, which was strange. She'd known better than to ask why L had had her set up a zipline for Aiber, though she knew that she could have entered that building undetected better than the con man could. It was unusual for L to have them working separate tasks, but then every time she thought she'd had L pegged, he surprised her.

Years ago, Aiber had been the one to catch Wedy – or, more specifically, L had used Aiber to catch her – and she was still kicking herself for falling for their trap. The genius of it was that Aiber hadn't pretended _not_ to be a con man. They'd rigged it so that she would 'catch' him in a con and get him to agree to give her half of the profit. She'd had no idea who she would end up working for as a result, or for how long. She lived her life now inside something like an invisible fence, with only the illusion of freedom. Wedy told herself that it was better than being in prison, but there were some days when she was not sure.

She cut into the stack of cooling pancakes and brought some floppy butter-soaked triangles to her mouth. "C'_mon_ carbs." She still wasn't hungry, but eating pancakes always made her sleepy and were less risky than sleeping pills. Wedy had to _try_ to rest, if not for the sake of being ready, then at least to shut the world out for a short while.

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Author's Note: I've been trying to upload this for two hours! Hopefully this new version of the document will take, grumble grumble . . .

Bad dreams are bad. O_O Mace is bad too – that's why it's illegal in so many places. Good thing Matsuda wasn't allergic to it, since that can give someone permanent dermatitis, yikes! (I researched it, but including too much info on it slows the story down). And just for the record, I'm not big on OCs, but I had to put the nurse in – she was becoming too connected to the plot for me not to include her. We may or may not hear from her again, depending on how things go. My main focus is always going to be on characters from the original text.

Also, I realize that this is Day 9 now, but the title of this fic is based on the fact that decisions made on the 8th day caused a turn in events. No telling how long we're going, mwahaha . . .


	14. Inopportunity

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, meeting Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

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**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 14: Inopportunity

Unconscious Entertainment

_Humans – what won't they do to each other?_ Ryuk sat musing, his large frame impossibly perched like a giant crow on the windowsill. He had no idea why some blonde chick in black had decided to perform surgery on Misa in the middle of the night. He wondered who had sent the woman – _Was it L? Or Light?_ – or if she was working alone. It was all very intriguing.

Misa had been disappointed the preceding night when Ryuk had returned to say he'd gotten no response from any shinigami, but she hadn't seemed surprised. Even more disappointing to _him_, she had seemed less inclined to fight. Ryuk preferred it when she was feisty and easily provoked – which she was, most of the time. Of course, Ryuk's tendency to needle her may have brought about some changes in her behavior, resulting in her being petulant more often and lapsing into sullen silences from time to time. _I guess she likes a shinigami who tells her what she wants to hear_, Ryuk thought, _but picking on her is the only fun I get around here_. Ryuk supposed that if he plucked too many apples off the tree, he'd have to wait longer for more. He just hated waiting.

"C'mon Misa, wake up! Aren't you late for _something_?" In truth, Ryuk had no clue what was on her schedule, and he really didn't care, but sitting sentinel over her prone form was getting old.

"Misa!" Ryuk threw a one-eyed armless doll at her, watching as it bounced off her hip. "I know you're not dead – I can see your lifeline! Get up already! I'll make you regret it if you sleep past lunch! We're almost out of apples!"

A muffled moan rose from the spot where her face was pressed into her pillow, and Misa's hand waved vaguely before flopping back onto the bed like a wilted flower thrown to ground. _What the hell did that chick drug Misa with?_ Ryuk wondered. Looking over his shoulder into the sunlight, Ryuk considered flying out and around for awhile, catching air and people watching a bit, or possibly calling up to Midora again. Not that she was any more likely to answer now than she had been last night, but it would give something for Ryuk to do since Misa had no video games.

Sharp rapping on Misa's door jerked Ryuk out of his thoughts. "It's about time!" Ryuk flew across the room and poked his head through the door, but was disappointed to see a man he hadn't met. He waved a hand in the man's face. No reaction. The man then reached through him to use the door knocker again. _Guess this loser can't see me_, Ryuk thought, pulling back into the apartment.

"Hey, Misa! _Misa!_ There's a _guy_ at the door. C'mon – get up or I'll poke you!" Ryuk floated above her.

Misa flung an arm in Ryuk's direction as though she was swatting an enormous fly. Ryuk phased, and her arm went through him as he chortled.

"Ms. Amane! Please open the door. We've been trying to contact you all morning. You're late for your interview with 18 Magazine!"

This seemed to rouse Misa somewhat, as she pulled herself to a slumping seated position and weakly called out "Wait!" Misa touched her face and cracked open an eye. "I haven't even showered yet . . . I can't go . . ." she mumbled to herself. Slapping her own face twice, she took a deep breath and shouted "We'll have to reschedule!"

Misa rubbed her eyes and swung her legs out from under the covers to dangle off the edge of the bed, looking as though she would have been more comfortable in pink footie pajamas rather than the black lace negligee she was wearing. A strap had fallen down one shoulder, leaving the filmy material precariously clinging to her right breast. Ryuk knew that normally she'd have moved the strap back in place and yelled at him for supposedly ogling her, but she seemed not to notice.

"Ms. Amane, please let me in. Yoshida Productions sent me! I can help you get ready – there's still time if we hurry!"

"Ugh – OK, OK . . ." Misa pushed off the bed and stood, wavering for a moment before stumbling toward the door.

Ryuk looked on in amazement. _This guy's about to get an eyeful_, he thought. Heedless of her state of undress, Misa yanked open the door, holding onto the doorframe for support.

The man's eyes bulged as he stepped into the room. "M-Ms. Amane . . . here, let me, uh . . ." He fumbled with his words as he grabbed Misa's arm and closed the door behind him. "Here, uh . . . maybe you wanna put some different clothes on, or . . ." He didn't seem to know what to do, but managed to guide Misa to the loveseat. She sat down with a faint thump, her disheveled blonde hair forming a misshapen halo as the right side of her negligee finally gave way.

"Uh . . ." The man stared, his mouth hanging open, mustache quivering like a dying caterpillar.

"Misa is sooo tired . . ." Misa's words trailed off into a sigh as she fell to one side and curled in on herself, eyes already closing again.

The man continued to stare and Ryuk wondered what he would do, though he had a pretty good idea based on where the man's eyes were fixed. Ryuk also wondered if L was watching all of this.

"Maybe just . . . a little . . ." The man crouched slightly, reaching out toward Misa, but before he touched her, his cellphone rang. "Shit!" he yelped, looking around guiltily to Ryuk's amusement. He put his phone to his ear.

"What? Huh? No no no – she never came down, so I had to go up. No, it's fine, the ID worked. Yeah, she's here. No, she didn't recognize me, it's just . . . she's _really_ out of it. No, I didn't even get the chance. How should I know? Heh, you wouldn't believe it, she just – what?" The man reared back, the curtains of shoulder-length hair swinging, and Ryuk could hear a voice yelling through the phone. "Hey! It's not my fault we're late! She didn't –"

The man stopped again, eyebrows clashing together like two locomotives. "Yes sir. Yes – I know we're on a schedule. Yeah. Got it. I – hey! I got it, alright? I'll be outta here soon, I just have to put some clothes on her." The man sighed and then turned red. "No I didn't! What the hell do you take me for, some kind of –" The man gritted his teeth. "You know what? Fuck you." He shoved his phone in his pocket and glared at Misa, who was somehow still asleep despite his tirade. "Great." Stomping through the apartment, the man eventually returned with a plainer-looking dress than Ryuk had ever seen Misa wear and a pair of sandals.

"Guess we're going on a little field trip," Ryuk said, knowing that the man wouldn't hear him. He watched him set the clothes down and pull a small bottle and a white cloth from his jacket pocket.

"Just to make sure . . ." the man murmured, dousing the cloth with liquid from the bottle and pressing the cloth over Misa's nose and mouth. Misa squirmed slightly and then became still again. The man pocketed the items before struggling to get Misa's wobbly form into the dress he'd picked out. As he cursed and proceed to drop her on the floor, Ryuk found himself shaking with laughter.

Ryuk turned toward where he knew the camera was. "Hey buddy, I dunno if you're behind this, but even if you're not, I gotta say thanks for the entertainment!" Turning back to watch the man struggle with Misa's limp form, Ryuk thought _If this guy wasn't such an idiot, he would've kept playing his role and maybe got Misa to help get herself dressed_. Ryuk chuckled. _Then again, where's the fun in that?_

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Cryptic Nuptial

Soft, irregular beeping joined the quiet chorus of tapping and shuffling, and the tapping suddenly stopped.

"Light, calling them now will likely not net you any new information. In fact, you may interrupt something important if they have left their phones on." L speared another slice of mango and swallowed it, slurping. "There'sss still plenty of work to do here."

Light snapped his phone shut, saying nothing. Mogi watched Light walk with a barely controlled stomp back over to his chair. He wondered what the Chief and Matsuda were up to as well, since it had been over an hour since he'd gotten a text from Matsuda. Mogi felt it paid to be patient, however, so he was willing to wait.

Progress on documenting deaths and disappearances was going much more smoothly now that both L and Light were working on it. Mogi had been surprised when L had told him that he was still in charge of this part of the investigation. "I trust you to keep all of this information in order and accurate," L had told him; "Light and I will merely be assisting you." The idea of L being anyone's assistant, let alone his, was very strange to Mogi, but it made him want to work that much harder.

"I'm still not sure how this guy connects to anything," Light piped up, staring at the photo on his monitor – a man with short brown hair and European features stared back. "He's in the US Army, but his deployment ended weeks ago. For all we know, he could be involved with drugs, or –"

"Or he could simply be taking a much-needed vacation before shipping home. Not everything has a bleak explanation, Light." L continued to slurp down his mango with sticky rice.

"Who takes a vacation in a warehouse?" Light snickered derisively. "I'm just saying we can't automatically assume he's a kidnapper just because he dropped a food wrapper there. Maybe he's just some loser . . ."

"Mm – see, this is why Watari is investigating him. Watari has connections within the military whom he can trust to give him answers, on or off the record. If this man is 'some loser' as you say, we'll find out soon enough. Though I would hardly call a kidnapper a 'winner,' for that matter, if indeed he is one of them . . ."

Mogi kept quiet, listening as always. He found himself missing Matsuda's presence, if only for the cheer he seemed to exude. _Matsuda will be plenty cheerful when he gets back and we're done compiling the data already_, Mogi thought. A smile brushed his lips as Mogi focused once more on his task.

"Ryuzaki. I have unfortunate news."

L blinked once. "What is it, Watari?"

"Well, a number of our supplies didn't arrive when someone else's shipment of Perrier-Jouet was re-routed, so I'm having to re-order some things."

Mogi peeked over at L and was surprised to see his eyes wider than usual, holding his fork as though he had forgotten it.

". . . Are you able to determine where the shipment is headed?" L asked, his voice even.

"Yes, but I am afraid it is out of my hands." After a pause, Watari said, "Do not worry, Ryuzaki. We will not run out of sugar."

Mogi thought L seemed to relax a bit at that, but noticed Light staring intently at L through lowered lashes. _What did he see that I missed?_ Mogi wondered. _Or was it something else_ . . .

"I wonder if someone is having an impromptu wedding." L placed the fork in his mouth reflexively, though there was nothing on it.

"Indeed," Watari replied, "I had that very thought."

"Perhaps our supplies should be sent by airplane instead of boat next time." L sounded resigned.

"Agreed. I'll let you get back to work."

"Thank you, Watari."

Mogi preferred silence, but this one seemed to stretch awkwardly. He tried to stay focused on his work but found his eye drawn across the room to Light, who seemed unusually still.

"Ryuzaki . . . what the hell was that all about?" If Light had intended for his words to sound light-hearted, he had not quite succeeded.

"Hm . . . ?" L absently put the last of the mango in his mouth, eyes fixed on the screen before him.

"You seemed awfully concerned about a bunch of supplies – that's not like you. Plus, what is it about you and weddings?"

L stopped chewing and swallowed, Light's eyes on him. "There were some special pastries among the supplies that I was very much looking forward to having. Watari was simply keeping me informed. And . . . _weddings_, Light?" L cocked an eyebrow, staring at Light.

"Yeah – you talked about wedding _bells_ yesterday, and now you're wondering if a bunch of champagne is for a wedding?" Light's derision seemed to hold an accusation, though Mogi couldn't fathom why any more than he could remember L mentioning wedding bells, of all things.

"Ah. Yes, it is a strange thing for me to be thinking about." L looked down at his empty plate and placed his fork on it with a hollow clatter. "I suppose I have come to the realization that I will never marry. Not that that comes as a surprise – I had never really dwelled on it before. Given my line of work . . . I don't really get out much, so even meeting people is rare enough. It had never occurred to me to regret this before."

Mogi no longer attempted to disguise the fact that he was listening.

Light's eyes narrowed. "But you regret it now?"

"Hm." L moved the fork on his empty plate so that the tines were facing him. "I regret that I will never truly know if there is something _to_ regret in all the things I am missing out on." L faced Light. "But I regret nothing else."

"Even your mistakes?"

"Especially not those."

Mogi wondered how long the staring contest would go on. There were things he wanted to ask, but he did not want to break the renewed silence, however strained it might be. He turned away and entered more of the information they'd gathered into his database, looking forward to using the sorting parameters to discern patterns in the deaths. As the shuffling and soft tapping resumed across the room, Mogi knew that moment was coming, the one where everything would fall into place. He wanted to be ready for it.

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Life of Leisure

He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket and was glad the call hadn't come a few minutes earlier – it might not have soured the deal he'd just made, but anything was possible. Also, he hated missing calls. _If opportunity chopped a tree down in the forest and you weren't there to hear it, would you still make a buck?_ Chuckling to himself as he rode the elevator down, he flipped his phone open.

"Maxwell Smart here, at your service." After a long moment, he laughed boisterously. "Nice! Does anyone else get to see your humorous side?" He listened, donning his sunglasses with his other hand in one smooth motion. "Ha – yeah, that makes sense. So what's on the docket?"

The elevator doors slid open onto an expansive lobby with marble floors and columns, chrome and crystal glinting around him as he stepped out, cell still pressed to his ear. "Uh huh. Yeah . . ." A woman behind the crescent-shaped front desk smiled at him, and he smiled back easily, not breaking his stride. "I _could_ be available . . . although really, how could I say no?"

The sun flashed off the glass of the revolving door as he passed through it, light strobing over him and his reflections until he emerged. "Wait – _what?_" He walked briskly along the sidewalk, the muted flapping of the door fading behind him as other street noises crowded in. "Can you tell me what's in it?"

He saw his ride approaching and waved him off. _One circle around the block should be enough to finish this_, he thought. "Right. Well, what do you need me to do?"

Stepping back out of the crowd, he leaned against a building wall, looking for all the world as if he belonged there. "Uh huh . . . yeah . . . OK, got it. I can head there now." He looked around, relaxed. "Don't worry – I'll keep a low profile, and I won't initiate anything until I hear back from you. Sure thing."

Pretending to examine his nails as he listened, he looked toward the corner, where he knew his car would appear again. "Is there anything else I need to know?" After a moment, his face fell into a knowing smirk. "Heh, yeah, that sounds like him. No problem. I'll talk to you soon."

Flipping his phone closed again, Aiber dropped it in his pocket, still smiling. He'd never have had this thought years ago, but being caught by L was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. There were things he couldn't do, certainly, but they were far outweighed by the things he could do now. It was the best steady job he'd never intentionally applied for, and he felt that his family was much safer now, despite the dangers he sometimes faced. Aiber stretched, watching people go by. It was unlikely that this next task would net him the kind of money that the previous few had, but "You never know," he said aloud as his car came around again.

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Author's Note: Hmm, I apparently have a gift for putting characters in undignified and uncomfortable situations. This might make me a terrible person . . . O_o But yay, Aiber's in the picture now – he's a cocky bastard, and therefore fun to write. I feel like he'd have an interesting rapport with Watari, like maybe he's the only guy Watari could tell dirty jokes to or something. Also, I don't think I realized how much I like Mogi until I started writing this. He's a stoic sort, but they say still waters run deep . . . not sure I can work any scenes of him dropping a strawberry into his pocket without it seeming forced, though. Love that bit from the anime!

Shout-out and thank you to Sashocirrione for the reviews and the summary revision idea! I mentioned the Namikawa/Mido thing at the top of Chapter 1, as you suggested, in case there are folks interested in that. I guess I could have put it in the story summary as well, but it isn't really prominent enough in this fic for that. Thank you to all my reviewers! And my sneaky silent readers as well. ^_^


	15. Shinigami Tango

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, meeting Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

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**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 15: Shinigami Tango

Boleo

Even the most comprehensive of plans encountered unforeseen circumstances. _What is that crass saying – 'shit happens'?_ L ruminated, pulling at his lower lip. He would not risk another conversation with Watari regarding Misa's unexpected diversion, though he wanted more details. He knew that Watari would not have said anything at all if the situation had not been urgent. This was why L had told Watari to involve both Wedy and Aiber to track Misa by using their rudimentary code – "airplane" for Aiber, "wedding" for Wedy, "champagne" or any variant thereof for Misa. There was no point drawing any additional attention from Light when Watari would be able to handle things, having no doubt witnessed whatever had occurred.

L considered the two most likely scenarios based on what Watari had said. Either Misa was onto them, at least in regard to the cameras and/or tracking device, and was running away. Or she had been taken somewhere against her will or by someone whom Watari recognized as being a problem. L did not have access to the secret feed from Misa's apartment at the moment, and it irked him to be left in the dark, even temporarily.

Rubbing his feet together, L scanned the monitor in front of him, allotting the smallest possible percentage of his brain power to it as he focused on other thoughts. Of the two scenarios he was considering, he thought the second one seemed more likely – partially because he trusted Wedy's skill in hiding surveillance equipment, but partially because the faint timbre of alarm in Watari's voice had been too low to be indicative of any discovery of their deeds. _So . . . another kidnapping?_ L suppressed the urge to sigh.

If Misa _had_ been abducted somehow, it would be a simple matter of finding her. _Good thing we implanted the tracking device when we did_, L thought. The device was too small to be picked up by a metal detector, and if Wedy had followed instructions, Misa would appear to have a small scratch on her back with a Band-Aid over it. Granted, L's intention had been to track Misa's movements and determine the times and places she was using the Death Note, not to mention where the rest of it might be hidden, but being able to track her to wherever she was being taken now was handy too. Perhaps unfortunately, they would have to keep all of this from the rest of the Task Force, since it would be suspicious that L and Watari even knew anything was happening to her, let alone where she was.

"Huh . . ."

L looked around at Mogi's voice and followed his gaze to the side wall furthest from Mogi. White bones jutted through near the base of the glass stairway – a leg, a claw, eventually a face emerging with a single yellow eye.

"Welcome back, shinigami." L kept his sarcasm mild as he watched Rem move the rest of the way into the room. He couldn't quite place her expression, as it rarely varied from one of disgust, but something seemed different. _The way she was watching Misa yesterday . . . does she know what is happening to her now?_ L wondered. He felt rather than saw Light watching her too. She ignored all of them and moved over to where the Death Note still sat on the table between the green couches.

Rem stood, partially phased through one of the couches, her hand hovering over the cover of the black notebook as though she was a child near a stovetop remembering the warning but wanting to touch the burner anyway. L heard Light inhale and decided to speak before he could.

"Rem, are you required to remain close to the notebook's owner at all times?" A slight movement caught L's peripheral view, but he could not tell if Light had jumped or merely turned.

Rem looked up to face L, her eye narrowed. "I must remain close enough to the notebook to watch over it, that is all."

"I already asked Rem all of that, Ryuzaki. Ask Mogi." Light's voice held just a trace of agitation beneath the offhand tone.

"Mm. Well, as interesting as that is, I'm asking now." L kept his eyes on the shinigami. "So Rem, theoretically the notebook's owner could leave it behind, and you would have to stay with it?"

The pause Rem took before speaking seemed unusually long, but she held L's gaze for the duration. "Not necessarily. I would merely have to be within a close enough range so that I could still watch over it."

"Hm. So despite having only one eye, your vision must be quite good, considering you spent much of yesterday out of _our_ sight."

Rem remained silent, seeming unwilling to dignify L's remark with a response.

L gestured to the Death Note before her on the table. "Who is the owner of this notebook?"

"I am under no obligation to reveal that to anyone." Rem's tone was imperious.

". . . Which means that someone owns this notebook – you just won't say who. Fair enough." L continued to stare.

"Ryuzaki, you're going about this the wrong way," Light interjected. "It doesn't matter if there's an owner of this notebook or who it is – no one's used this notebook since we got it from Higuchi. Kira's out _there_, using a different notebook. _That's_ what we need to focus on. We already –"

"Everything matters, Light." L cut Light off, his tone sharp. "How ownership functions in regard to the rules is important to our understanding of _all_ Death Notes, and such understanding is necessary to resolve this case. Ownership obviously matters if, for example, a shinigami can only reveal certain things, like the 'eye deal,' to the owner and no one else. If my line of questioning bores you, then by all means take a walk."

Light's mouth snapped shut. Mogi stared at them openly, but L only had eyes for Rem. "Since Higuchi was the last owner of this notebook," L continued, gesturing again, "we can presume that ownership passed, upon his death, to one of two people: either Chief Yagami, who touched the notebook first when it was taken, or Light Yagami, who was holding the notebook at the moment of Higuchi's untimely demise."

"What makes you think that ownership passed to any of you?" Rem continued to stare at L, her back hunched in an apparently unintentional parody of his posture.

"Because if ownership did not pass to anyone, you could simply reclaim the notebook and return to the shinigami realm." L's voice was even.

"Why would I do that?"

"Actually . . . that begs the question: why allow the notebook to enter the human world at all? There must be some reason why you dropped it." L leaned forward, steepling his fingers just under his chin, wondering which card he'd have to play.

"I had no intention of dropping –"

"Don't patronize me." L interrupted Rem, angling his head forward to stare through his brows, hands now on his knees. "You're not stupid, and neither am I. You did not drop the notebook by accident. If you wish to lie, please at least be more convincing."

Rem did not conceal her shock. "How dare you! I do not have to answer any of your questions! I chose to answer what questions I could, but no longer." She turned away from L and floated toward the elevator wall.

"Can you see the future, shinigami?" L spoke at Rem's bony back. "I am guessing that you cannot, which would still be no problem for a god of death – if you were not made vulnerable by an attachment to a human."

Rem stopped as though she had hit an impenetrable barrier, caught in mid-air.

"I imagine that must complicate things quite a bit, to genuinely care about one of us 'inconsequential' human beings. Perhaps you are trying to find ways to protect this human?" Rem remained stock-still and silent, so L continued. "I am also guessing that this human you care about owns a Death Note, though not necessarily this one." L glanced at the notebook on the table before returning his eyes to the white ribs of Rem's back. "I wonder if this human's life has been improved by owning a Death Note."

L thought he detected a hitch in Rem's shoulders. The room itself seemed to be holding its breath. "I wonder, too, if this human truly values your role in all of this. Is it really possible for a shinigami to be a protector for someone?"

Slowly, Rem swiveled her head to glare dully over her shoulder at L. "You'd be surprised."

L didn't blink. "Perhaps." L held her eye with his own. "But a human with a shinigami's ability to kill . . . I truly believe that such a person is cursed. Being a shinigami yourself, it may not have occurred to you that any 'protection' you could offer might be . . . counterproductive, even harmful." L's expression as he regarded the shinigami was not unkind. "Would you do things differently, knowing what you know now?"

A long moment stretched out between them. "I have no answer for you," Rem finally said before turning and fading into the wall. Her mournful tone, however, had been enough of an answer for L. He knew he was on the right track – it was just a matter of finding the opportunity to use what he knew to motivate her.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Gancho

The seat was hard and cold. The room was dark and stuffy, and a voice was droning. _Not the church dream again_ – the one where she would stand from the pew to sing and find herself naked and voiceless, parishioners turning to point and laugh. _Who will the priest be this time_, she wondered, trying to shake herself awake.

"She's moving."

It took a moment for her to realize that she was awake, as she heard the jangled clank of metal on metal and felt the cloth crowding her breath. She was so tired – it couldn't possibly be real . . . _it has to be a different dream_. _Another torture nightmare?_ Misa tried to make sense of it, shaking her head.

"Get that thing off her. We're ready to start."

As the cloth sack was removed from her head, several lights clicked on – they shone in red through her closed eyelids as Misa inhaled a lungful of air. The lights had only been on for a few seconds when she already began to feel very warm.

"Are you trying to give me a tan?" Misa kept her eyes shut, wishing now that she really was asleep. She felt the handcuffs on her wrists and the back of the metal chair and wondered briefly if L had captured her again but decided that didn't seem right. She had been bound much more tightly than this, with a straitjacket and straps to a metal slab, when L had interrogated her. Misa doubted he would vary his pervy ways for anyone – which meant that this was someone new.

"Misa Amane, do you know where you are?" The tones of a voice modulator rang around her.

"Well, I know I'm not in my apartment anymore, which means you're in big trouble." Though she was still groggy, her voice was clear and defiant.

"Do you know why you've been brought here?"

"Because you're a stupid psycho stalker jerk?" Misa heard a throaty chuckle next to her and gradually opened one eye. The glare from the lights was all around her, but she could see Ryuk clearly enough.

"That is incorrect. I had you brought here so I could ask you more questions." There was a pause as the faint echo of the modulated voice faded away. "I am L."

"No you aren't!" Misa barked. "This isn't how L would've done things – believe me, _I_ know."

"Do tell." The modulated voice seemed amused.

"Forget it. Whatever it is you want, you're not getting it from me. People are gonna be looking for me – they probably already are, since I had a bunch of stuff scheduled for today."

"Unlikely, considering I had Yoshida Productions cancel all of your appointments."

Misa gasped, wondering if she'd been wrong. _Can this really be L?_ she thought. Her wrists and ankles were bound by the cuffs to the chair – it was functional enough, but not at all like the "fetishy" strap bindings and metal faceplate L had fitted her with. Squinting down at herself in the pool of bright light, she realized she was wearing her old Sunday dress. _No wonder I thought I was having the church dream!_ Misa thought, confidence renewed. It covered her much more effectively than the tattered hospital gown she'd had on under the straitjacket in L's custody. Unable to help herself, Misa started giggling.

"You find this situation amusing, Miss Amane?" The modulated voice sounded more than a little put out.

"Yoshida Productions won't be the only people looking for me, whether my appointments are cancelled or not. And pretend to be L all you want – I _know_ you're not him." Though she was mostly boasting, Misa thought it had the desired effect when she heard a distant murmur. _Are they in the same room as me?_ Misa wondered. _Pfft – amateurs_.

"Are you the second Kira?"

"Ha! Of course not. Even L knew that."

"Are you the first Kira?"

"The – what?"

"Don't pretend you don't know that criminals are still dying. _Are_ you Kira?"

"No! I'm not Kira – what's wrong with you people?" Misa flushed as she realized she'd just admitted knowing there was more than one interrogator there.

"Then you _know_ Kira, and you're going to tell me who he is."

"No I don't, and no I'm _not_." Misa tossed her hair, her eyes almost used to the harsh light, and stole a glance at Ryuk. "It's lucky for you I'm not Kira, because if I were, you'd all be dead now."

"Are you . . . threatening me?" The modulated voice sounded incredulous.

"Of course not – _I'm_ no threat to you." Misa looked straight up, her face hot under the glare, catching another glimpse of the shinigami looming beside her. She balled her fists behind her back and then waggled her fingers.

"Huh? Wait, are you trying to talk to me?" Ryuk pointed at his own chest, tilting his head.

"You're no threat, but Kira is – that's what you're trying to say?" The modulated voice sounded annoyed.

"Yes! That's it exactly." Misa looked once more at Ryuk for emphasis and then looked away. She knew the others couldn't see him, but didn't want to raise their suspicions further by looking in the same spot over and over. She heard Ryuk chortling.

"I don't know what you expect from me – you got yourself into this as far as I'm concerned," Ryuk said.

"Well, if you supposedly aren't Kira and don't know Kira, then why would Kira pose any threat to me?" The modulated voice seemed to be teasing her, talking to her as though she was a child, an all-too-familiar tone.

"No, no – you don't understand. Kira punishes criminals. I don't have to be Kira or know Kira to know _that_. And you're obviously criminals. I mean, you kidnapped me! That's _totally_ a crime. What I'm saying is that if Kira _was_ here, he'd punish you." Misa wondered why Ryuk wasn't taking the hint.

"Heh heh, I don't know if you're used to Rem getting you out of jams like this, Misa, but you should know by now that's not how I roll." Ryuk hovered over her, looking down as Misa's face turned a deeper red.

"It's hardly a point worth making if, as you say, Kira is not here. So why does it feel as if you are trying to threaten me?" The modulated voice mocked.

"I _hate_ you! I hate you! I bet you're really enjoying yourself right now, aren't you!" Misa's eyes filled with tears and her head began to throb as she wished the grogginess would enfold her once more.

"This is not enjoyable for any of us. If you want this to end, you must tell us about Kira." The modulated voice sounded stern now.

Misa hung her head, a few spare tears falling into her lap. "I only know what I've heard on the news. But you don't care about that. You only want me to suffer."

Ryuk was silent above her. Misa had already decided to say no more, no matter what her captors might do to her, so she stopped listening to them. She could barely even remember getting out of bed, and now she was being interrogated. Again. _By some lame L wanna-be_, Misa thought. _If I can survive L, I can survive this_. She wondered what could have happened to have jinxed her so.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Intermezzo

The phone seemed like it would never stop ringing. It was odd that it was not forwarding his call to voicemail. Just before giving up, Watari heard a click.

". . . Hello?"

"Hello. Am I interrupting something?" Watari was concerned by the sound of Wedy's voice.

"Mm. No. Well, I was napping . . ."

"Oh dear. I am terribly sorry – you must be exhausted. I am surprised you did not turn your phone off."

"You know I wouldn't do that. Things come up. That's why you're calling now, right?"

"Indeed." Watari sighed. "I do hate to call on you again so soon, but this is something of an emergency. You will be working with a colleague."

"Let me guess – Aiber?"

"Yes. I am sending a photo to your phone – it will show the location at which you must meet him. He will have retrieved an item that I had delivered to him by the time you get there. His approach in this matter will be distraction; yours will be extraction. He will be able to fill you in on some of the details when you speak to him. However, I must caution you not to share any non-pertinent information with him, relating to the target or anything you've done for us in the past few days or so. Do you understand?"

"Not . . . really. But it's fine; I'll keep stuff to myself. What's the target?"

"It will become clear what the 'package' is when he gives you the device. Again, I am sorry to have had to impose, but if you could get to him within the next 30 or 40 minutes it would be most helpful. Good luck."

The phone clicked. Wedy stared at it for a moment. _Why the hell couldn't he just tell me the target?_ she wondered; _is he under surveillance?_ Her phone beeped and she opened up the picture he'd sent. It took her a few seconds to recognize the mail and packaging store, but she knew where it was even before she noticed the street sign that was handily in-frame. Keeping Aiber in the dark about her recent jobs for L would be a pain, since he was fairly perceptive, but she would manage. _I'll just say I've been freelancing_, she thought; _he'll buy that_.

Wedy dropped her robe to the floor, cool air from the vent slipping over her skin, and pinched the next set of street clothes from her luggage. It was a ten minute walk from her hotel to the mail store, so there was no need for her to take her motorcycle. She hoped the walk would wake her up a bit more, inoculating her against unwanted inquiry.

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Arrastre

Hidden in a dark corner, she cradled her head in her hands. _How did he know?_ He never once said her name, so it was possible he was bluffing, but . . . "No." The sound of her own voice startled Rem, and she looked around. No one was near her; no one had heard. But she realized that it could have been this kind of spontaneous reaction that had tipped L off to her feelings for Misa.

He had insulted her. He had dared to imply that she had endangered Misa's life! She would have killed him right there – had he not been right. Rem could still see Gelus' Death Note tumbling to earth, slipped from her fingers, to land in Misa's path. The moment Misa picked it up, hands still trembling from her encounter with a homicidal stalker just minutes in her past, the moment Rem felt that first pull, urging her to enter the human world, bound to Misa, the moment they faced each other for the first time, Misa's eyes wide but somehow unafraid – these moments were gems on a chain that now encircled them both, threatening to strangle them.

Rem knew that if she ceased to be, whatever promises to protect Misa he might have made, Light would have no trouble sacrificing Misa as soon as she became a liability for him, her usefulness spent. Rem also knew that the Task Force would want to execute Misa if she was proven to be the 'second Kira' as they called it, and if anyone could find proof, it would be L. Killing L would probably prevent Misa from getting caught, but it did not guarantee her survival after that. Rem had no trouble seeing Misa's lifeline, shortened though it had been, but a lifeline only showed how long a human would live without interference from a Death Note.

A surge of fresh anger filled her, frothing inside her skull, as she thought of Ryuk taking half of Misa's lifespan for himself. She couldn't feel surprised, though – most shinigami didn't care enough about humans to even observe them much. Humans were fruit on a vine, lifespans ripe for plucking, and nothing more. And Rem knew that Misa must have wanted the shinigami eyes again, but . . . _She would have wanted them for Light_, Rem thought. Switching ownership of the Death Notes in the woods that day had been part of Light's plan, to ensure that Misa would be freed, but also that she would be paired with a shinigami who was willing to halve her lifespan again – and to ensure that Light would be paired with a shinigami who would be willing to die protecting the remainder of that lifespan. Rem could no longer hide from the truth: Light had intended for her to die protecting Misa by killing the man known as L. That had been part of Light's plan all along.

L posed a threat to Misa – Rem had no doubt of that. But he had said that memory loss could be imposed as a punishment for Kira instead. She wondered if he had meant it. She loathed the idea of putting her trust in yet another human, as it always seemed to be a losing proposition, but she began to consider the possibility. _Could I persuade L to protect Misa instead? Without exposing my intentions to Light?_ Rem was unsure. _If only I could see Misa and speak to her_, she thought; _if only she was not so far away_. She knew she would have to move cautiously, and try to catch L when he was away from the others, unobserved, to determine if he could be properly motivated to help Misa.

Even this, the tiniest ember of hope in the ashes of all her intentions, warmed Rem somewhat. She drifted, room to room, watching, listening, waiting.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: I sort of did a theme with the titling this time – not sure how well it fits, but I like it. The push and pull of conflicting motivations can feel like a dance sometimes.

When including phone conversations, I often only show one half of the conversation and let the reader figure out the other half, but I decided to break habit this time and give both sides of the convo between Wedy and Watari. I may do that again at some point, but I like the frustration of only hearing one side (and I do have the unshown side pretty well fleshed out in my head).

Oh, and I don't know where I got the idea that Tokyo wasn't specifically mentioned as the setting in the manga, because I was re-reading parts of it for reference and . . . it totally is! Unless Tokyo was only specified in the English translation and not in the original Japanese, in which case, well, I wouldn't know anyway. :-P I don't feel like going back and correcting my earlier A/N on this, though – only so much nitpickiness I can allow myself.


	16. Trigger

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, meeting Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

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**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 16: Trigger

Plan B

The burst of water from the faucet splashed onto his hands, spraying droplets all over his shirt and pants.

"Dammit."

Finished washing up, he moved to use the hand drier, angling his abdomen beneath it once his hands were dry. He hoped that no one walked in on him while he was in such an undignified position simply trying to dry his clothing. Going up to his room to change, on the same floor as the room he once shared with the detective, was out of the question as it would cost him time he did not have.

Clearing his head had been at least as important as emptying his bladder, though his main goal – to find Rem – had been fruitless. He doubted that L knew anything about Rem's feelings for Misa, or what that meant. _He's obviously grasping at straws_, Light thought; _just another sign of his desperation_. Based on what she'd said earlier, however, there was a rapidly diminishing chance that Rem would kill L as planned, so Light was having to more seriously considering putting 'Plan B' in motion. He closed his eyes, trying to master his frustration as a jet of hot air blasted just below his navel.

Light started, looking toward the door. No one was there. _This is pointless_, Light thought; _I'm making myself jumpy for no reason_. He knew what he needed to do. Sighing and backing away from the drier, he took his cellphone out and hit speed dial, waiting for the shrill response.

"Right to _voice_mail?" he muttered to himself. Light decided Misa must be working, though he wasn't sure of her schedule for the day. "Hi Misa, it's Light. I know you're pretty busy right now. I just wanted to tell you I looked for that flower you said you liked, eos diabolus, but I couldn't find one anywhere. Maybe I got the name wrong. Anyway, I'll talk to you later.'

Light clapped the phone shut. He would have preferred speaking to Misa directly, but she checked her messages often enough and what he'd said would sound innocuous enough to anyone who heard it. Provided that she actually remembered what he'd asked her to do, her role would be simple enough. _The tricky part will be gaining access to the camera feeds and getting an image of L's face sent out to Misa without getting caught_, Light thought; _if the image files are too big for my phone, I could just use a flashdrive_.

Breaking into his father's files at home had been easy. Hacking Yotsuba had been more of a challenge. But even from the inside, sneaking image data stored from the surveillance system at HQ was a daunting task. Light felt he could do it, but was not sure how quickly. He considered attempting it in the middle of the night when everyone would be asleep. "Too obvious," Light mumbled. He began pacing in front of the sinks. _The more people who are around when I do this, the better_, he thought; _it'll raise less suspicion if I'm in plain sight, appearing to work on the case_.

Light remembered his troubles searching for L on-camera just yesterday and frowned. _Using a computer in HQ to hack in might be too problematic_, Light thought, _since Watari must have direct access to them_. Light wasn't worried about the cameras per se – he'd learned how to show the cameras what he wanted to be seen and hide what he didn't a long time ago. Circumventing automatic system blocks he could deal with, but direct intervention by another person was another matter. _Either I'll have to make sure that Watari and L are not at the computer when I do this_, Light thought, _or . . . I'll have to use a different computer_. Light ran his fingers through his hair, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. _If I don't relax, I'm going to start looking like L_. Light shook his head, mirthless laughter sneaking out of his mouth.

There were two options Light was considering. He could try and hack in using an outside computer – he wouldn't be able to do this by proxy via a computer in HQ for the same reasons he couldn't just use an HQ computer to hack straight in, so he'd have to go outside the building to acquire a computer, either in a public area or from a stranger. This was less than ideal, partially because he would have to take a chance on unfamiliar equipment to meet his needs, and partially because he would not be present in HQ when it happened, which would raise too much suspicion.

The second option was going straight to the servers in the room next door. It was risky, but if he could go right to where everything was backed up, he might be able to bypass the normal security to access the files he needed. _Just one image of L's face, on my phone or a flashdrive – all I'd have to do is show it to Misa and I'll win_, Light thought. _In fact, it might take less time to just copy an entire video file to a flashdrive and slip it to her. Then she might even get Watari's name too_. A smile crept over Light's face as he decided to take a slight detour or two on his way back to the main room.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Staging

He would have preferred the limousine, but the cab was comfortable enough. It was more important not to draw too much attention to himself – not yet, at least. Now that his meeting was over, and the parcel passed along, he knew what he needed to do with the tools he had. He was glad he'd grabbed a bite to eat while he'd waited for her, and that the business at hand was proceeding quickly.

As his phone buzzed, he considered how long to wait before answering. Smirking, he flipped it open mid-way through the fourth ring. "Darling! It's been so long!'

"Hilarious. Did you get everything you need for this?"

"Of _course_ – why wouldn't I?"

"Hmph. I know your idea of a schedule is looser than mine, but the sooner we get this done the better. If you have everything, then –"

"What can I say – life is to be enjoyed!" Aiber smiled, gesturing expansively, relishing his role almost as much as his annoyance of Wedy.

"Uh huh. Well, I enjoy getting a job done and getting paid. Here's the update: I tracked our package to an office building not too far from the stadium. We'll have to get to one of the lower levels – or I will, anyway. You'll need to draw them up and out while I retrieve the package. Fooling the alarm system and looping the security feeds will be a snap, but I won't do any of that until you're ready. Got it?"

"Understood, my dear." Aiber saw the cab driver looking at him and winked. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Try not to forget which role you're playing. And hurry the fuck up."

Aiber chuckled as Wedy hung up on him. "Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you!" He shut his phone and slipped it in a pocket, still smiling, and caught the cabbie's eye again. "Women – so demanding!"

The cabbie laughed and nodded as he screeched to a stop at a red light. Aiber looked at his watch. "Say, where is the closest flower shop?"

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Switch

The text had been simple: "in-flight meal is wedding cake en route to France." L had concealed a smile before deleting it and clearing his text history. _So Aiber and Wedy are on the move_, he thought. He still felt somewhat disconnected since he had not spoken to them directly, but he trusted Watari to put them on the right track.

A near-constant tapping was coming from the other side of the room. L did not have to look over to know that Mogi was hard at work, updating his database of death. There were times when L almost envied Mogi – if only he could lose himself in a sea of data for awhile, it would be refreshing, almost like a vacation. L reasoned that he was likely feeling nostalgic for when he had been working in seclusion, though there were benefits and obstacles to both. L briefly considered contacting Namikawa as he'd said he would, but decided that he would leave that to someone else, since that was one of the benefits of working with others. _Perhaps Mr. Yagami can speak with him, since he is already gathering information relating to the hospital_, L thought, _which reminds me_ . . .

"Watari, have we received any updates from Mr. Yagami and Matsuda?"

"The last update I received was a text message from Chief Yagami indicating that he and Matsuda had located the young woman meeting the description of Higuchi's nurse, but that was hours ago, Ryuzaki."

"Yeah, and Matsuda hasn't texted me since this morning." Mogi chimed in. "If they're talking to the right nurse, maybe their interrogation is taking a long time."

"Hm. If that is the case, I hope that they are getting useful information." L scratched his left knee absently. "What about our supposedly vacationing soldier who snacks in warehouses? Any progress?"

"I've placed several calls, Ryuzaki, and so far only one person has called me back, basically confirming the man's identity. However, this has opened some new contacts to me, and I'm hopeful that we'll have something more solid to go on within the hour." Watari sounded tired.

"Thank you, Watari. It would be helpful to know more about this man's motivations, and his known associates." L chewed on his right thumb, staring at the document on the screen in front of him, the name Ron Thomas at the top. "His service record is impressive. It seems strange that this man might have become a kidnapper – it doesn't fit . . ." L seemed to be mumbling to himself.

Watari saw Mogi spare L the briefest of glances before returning his full attention to completing his database now that all of the known deaths in Japan since Higuchi's death had been compiled, at least concurrent through this morning. _Odd that no criminals have died of heart attacks yet today_, Watari thought, _though that could be a blessing in more than one way_. Watari wondered if this might help prove Misa Amane's guilt, since she seemed to be indisposed. _Ah, but the day is not yet done – best not to draw conclusions so soon_.

There was no need to bring this idea to L's attention – Watari felt that if he'd thought of it, then L had almost certainly already done so and moved on. Mentioning anything would draw unneeded attention from one Light Yagami.

Watari narrowed his eyes, noticing that Light had not yet returned to the main HQ room. He had seen him enter the restroom, but doubted that Light was still in there. _Unless L has given him some of his cake from yesterday_, Watari thought, the corners of his mouth quirking up. Moving quickly, Watari scanned all of the monitors before him, clicking over to new views from alternate cameras, his fingers flying over the keys. Though he was used to doing this, it remained a time-consuming and nerve-wracking duty, especially when something seemed awry.

A rarely-occupied room flashed onscreen as he searched, and he nearly clicked past it, had it not been for a shadowy movement. The fact that the light was on in that room was suspicious enough. And there it was again. Much was obscured by the amount of equipment in that room, but the chestnut hair sweeping past between the stacks was unmistakable. Light was in the server room. _Is he trying to sabotage or gain access to something?_ Watari wondered. He saw Light pull his arm back and palm something small.

There were a few options open to Watari in terms of response. Most of them were risky, and a few of them were rather draconian. Light was already leaving, walking stiffly and rapidly into the hallway. Watari chose the second most extreme response available to him, effectively defaulting to an impromptu Plan B. He did not choose this option lightly. Watari pressed the button, and then he pulled the switch, the entire building around him seeming to groan in response.

". . . Watari?" L's voice sounded hesitant over the speakers as red light flashed over him.

Watari saw that Light was headed down the hall, away from the main room. Taking a deep breath, Watari completed his move, reaching for the override switch and cutting off power to the building as well, darkness enveloping him as alarms began to scream.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Entering Without Breaking

The lighting seemed odd, and a high-pitched buzzing assaulted his ears as he crossed the room. He was not sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn't this. Walking up to the security desk, he smiled at the unimpressed woman behind it, a fluorescent bulb flickering above them.

"Just signing in before bringing these to my fiancée." Aiber gestured with the flowers in his left hand. "She works too hard, you know? Someday –"

"Sign and date it. List the room number." The woman's voice was a monotone, and her eyes held him grudgingly.

"Yes, of course," he said, trying to sound appropriately contrite and resisting the urge to adjust his auburn wig. Glancing at the clock on the wall behind her, Aiber was surprised to see that it was almost 4:00 PM. On impulse, he signed the ledger 'Eric Delarouge' and listed his destination as the printing office in 303-B. Aiber nodded and smiled at the security guard, who had stopped looking at him entirely, before proceeding down a short hall to the elevators. When the doors opened, he entered and pressed 3.

Alone in the elevator, Aiber turned his head toward the wall and spoke. "I'm headed to level 3 as planned, then I'll take the stairs further up. Everything's good so far."

Though he could not see or hear her, Aiber could imagine Wedy rolling her eyes at him for stating the obvious. One advantage of working with the same people was in knowing what to expect – although sometimes the unexpected appealed to him more.

A hollow ding announced his arrival on the third floor, and he exited, glancing at the wall-mounted directory to confirm the business' location and scour the list of employees for likely targets.

Wedy followed Aiber's progress using the device Watari had had sent to him – she had no idea where Aiber's tracking device was on him, but it showed up on her screen just fine. Though she knew there must be several floors between them, Aiber's green dot appeared right next to Amane's red dot. "If only it was that simple," Wedy grumbled quietly. The plan was risky, since they didn't know exactly who or what they were dealing with, but Wedy knew the building's layout and was ready to make her first real move.

The green dot tracked left and then down in what Wedy thought looked like the most boring videogame ever. When the dot stopped and moved slightly to the left again, Wedy started counting down in her head.

"Good afternoon! Is Kikio here?" Aiber was beaming at the receptionist, whose expression was somewhere between wary and bemused.

"I'll . . . check. Who can I tell her is –"

"Oh, don't tell her! My name's Eric, but I want to surprise her." Aiber winked conspiratorially.

"Um, OK, sure, hold on . . ." The receptionist, a pretty girl with dark hair falling past her shoulders in a silken curtain, placed a call, still eyeing Aiber. "Sir, there's a man here to see Miss Yamamoto . . . no . . . well, he has _flowers_ . . . yes . . . oh. I see. OK, I'll tell him." She hung up and faced Aiber, trite apology already in her eyes. "I'm sorry, sir, but Miss Yamamoto isn't back from her appointment yet."

"That's . . . she told me she'd _be_ here . . ." Aiber stammered, hoping he wasn't overplaying it too much. "She – is she seeing someone else?"

The girl recoiled as Aiber lunged forward, eyes wide. "I – what? I don't know! She keeps her private life to herself."

"But why would she lie? Why – unless . . ." Aiber narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. "It's someone here, isn't it. That man you spoke to, he asked you to lie, didn't he!" Bringing his voice from a low growl to a shout had the desired reaction as the girl blanched in fear.

"No! What are you talking about? She's not here!" The girl seemed to be fumbling with something on her desk, possibly a button to press, and Aiber suppressed the urge to smile. _3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . ._

The lights went out and the fire alarms rang out into the darkness, lit only by the red exit signs. _Game on_, Aiber thought. "_You_ did this!" He yelled at the surprised girl as a white-haired man came barreling through the door behind her to gape at them. "It's a trap! It's all a trap!" Aiber threw the flowers down, the smoke bomb within it detonating on impact, and ran out into the hall. _So far so good_, he thought, making a beeline for the stairwell and heading up.

_No turning back now_, Wedy thought with some relish. She was still tired, but there was nothing quite like an extraction to get the blood going. Once she had triggered the fire alarm – a very old system indeed – she had switched off the newer exit alarm system. The mike on her partner was only sending back the noise from the alarm, but she left it on. Now that Aiber was on his way up, it was time for her to move. Wedy entered the code to signal the security feeds on the basement levels of the building to begin the loop cycle she'd programmed.

Walking with confidence, Wedy entered the stairwell from the parking garage where she'd been waiting and went up a flight to the small connecting foyer between the garage and the office building. She then took the building's stairs two flights down to the bottom, knowing that she would not be seen. Tracking monitor in hand, she moved closer to the red dot, closer to her destination.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Oh snap. Ever been on a bus you thought was the right one only to have it turn down an unfamiliar road halfway to your destination? We are on that bus. Don't worry, though – there are other turns coming. ^_^ And yes, that was a codeword Light left on Misa's voicemail – it's not a real flower, but maybe it should be.

I am having way too much fun with Aiber, can you tell? Plenty of charm + nearly no shame = very annoyed Wedy, mwahaha. You've probably noticed this already, but I like parallels – similar things happening to different people with different results. It's becoming quite the trend in this fic.


	17. Lockdown

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, meeting Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 17: Lockdown

Assessments

_Disaster, that's the only word for it – unmitigated disaster. To come so far, to get so close, only to have it ripped away at the end_ . . .

"Mogi."

L's voice shook Mogi from his thoughts. "Yes, sir?"

"The honorific is unnecessary. Did you save any of your work to separate media?" L sounded disturbingly calm in the midst of the claxons going off.

"I . . . no." Mogi sighed, hanging his head, the shame suffusing him. "I saved my work every few minutes, but only to the computer I was using here."

"That's good. Thank you."

"But – wait, the message on the screens . . . is it untrue? Are our files safe?" Hope snuck into Mogi's voice.

"No, I'm afraid not. 'All data deleted' means what it says."

"Everything? Everything is gone?" Mogi was incredulous.

L had not moved in his chair since the message had appeared onscreen and the lights went out. Only the emergency lights were on now, dim and red. "I told Watari that . . . if anything were to happen to him, he must make sure to delete everything so that it would not fall into the wrong hands."

L's voice had been quiet, but his words rang louder in Mogi's head than the alarms. "What are you saying?" Mogi's voice became hushed as well. "If anything were to happen . . . ?"

Mogi stared as L met his eyes. Neither man spoke for a long moment.

"We need to find him." Mogi was resolute. "If he's . . . We need to find out what happened."

"Yes." L nodded once. Unfolding himself, he stepped out of the chair to stand, suddenly seeming older.

"Where –"

"Please secure any personal items before we go." L's detachment seemed more pronounced than usual.

"Aren't we coming back?" Mogi looked around at the stacks of paper, the only remnant of all the data he'd been compiling.

"It's possible that we'll be back here right away, and it's possible that we won't. We do not yet know what we are facing." L moved toward the couches, footsteps falling more heavily than usual. "We must be prepared for anything. We must rely on each other." L grasped the Death Note.

"Ryuzaki – you aren't going to use the notebook . . . are you?" Mogi felt numb.

"That is not my intention. I do not want it to go missing in our absence." L tucked the Death Note into the back of his pants and turned to Mogi. "We must go now."

"What about all of the –"

"Research?" L's expression seemed almost more sullen than blank. "Leave it. If the situation is better than it seems right now, we will be back for it."

Mogi hesitated before asking the next question, dreading the answer. As L moved toward the hallway, he spoke at his back. "What about Light?"

L stopped. When he turned, Mogi saw the first mote of real anger in L's eyes. "We will find _him_, too."

Walking after L into the hall, Mogi suppressed a shiver. He didn't want to believe that Light had done anything to Watari, but Light had left before the alarms started, and his suspicions of Light had been growing as he'd observed his behavior. He was no longer as sure as he once was that the teen was innocent. Mogi resolved to be as objective as possible and avoid condemning the Chief's son without proof. _Suspicion without proof is meaningless_, he thought; _that's what L said_. Mogi knew he could hold fast to that, even if L faltered in anger, as unlikely as that seemed. Still, Mogi was glad to have his gun on him, even if he did not end up using it.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Reacquisition

Despite the clanging racket, the hallway seemed almost quiet, deserted as it was. _Apparently most people don't come down here – lucky for me_, thought Wedy. The keypad by the door was relatively new but would not be a problem for her to crack. It amused Wedy that the more technologically advanced a security system was, the easier it was for her to breach. Every feature had a weakness, and a weakness, once found, was a barn door swung wide to Wedy. Newer systems had many features. _More features, more ways in_. Wedy smiled.

She double-checked the tracking screen. The green dot bounced and circled, indicating that Aiber was likely still climbing stairs. With a smirk, Wedy wondered if he was out of breath yet. _Maybe that's why he silenced his mike_, she thought. The red dot, by contrast, was not moving at all. The 'package,' Misa Amane, was in the next room. Wedy had no idea if she was alone, or even alive, but she was prepared to deal with contingencies.

Slipping her mask on and paying no heed to the camera that turned its blind eye past her, Wedy inserted a device into a port in the keypad, instantly reprogramming it to accept the next code entered as the only correct one. She punched in seven digits and felt a moment of satisfaction as it beeped at her. Reaching for another item in her bag, Wedy turned the doorknob.

"Hurry! Get to safety now! The roof is on fire!" Aiber shouted as he rushed against the flow of people trying to exit, shaking off his amusement at the unintentional song reference.

An exasperated man skewered him with a glare as he went by. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm the fire marshal!" Aiber shouted back, still climbing. "Keep going – you must exit the building for your own safety!"

Aiber found that most people wanted to believe what he told them, especially during an emergency, and that people tended to think less clearly when subjected to constant loud noise. He knew he wasn't exempt from the effects of the noise, however, and made an effort to stay focused. As he pushed through the moving stream of nervous and annoyed office workers, he felt a sudden sympathy for salmon. _At least salmon have something to look forward to_, Aiber thought, _as long as they dodge the bears_.

The crowd dwindled to a few people as Aiber rounded the next landing. "Hurry up – you've got to get out!" he admonished them, trying not to sound out of breath. _Two more flights, Thierry, keep it together_, Aiber admonished himself. The next phase of his mission was about to start, and if he screwed it up, he would be caught. He did _not_ want to get caught.

Bodies scattered the room like discarded dolls. Wedy adjusted her shirt where the large bald man had grabbed her, surveying the room as she kicked his immobile form for good measure. _Yotsuba – what the fuck, L?_ Wedy thought, wondering if this had been some kind of test. She couldn't fathom why else Watari wouldn't have told her who had taken Amane. The possibility that L hadn't known was unthinkable. Considering all the trust that had been placed on her, now and in times past, it made no sense to her. _Unless they thought I was working with these assholes_ . . . Wedy pondered. _No, then they wouldn't have sent me at all_.

Wedy approached Misa's limp form, feeling another pang of guilt. _Well, she's having a crappy day_, Wedy thought, _with a crappy dress to match_. After taking some quick photos of the room and all of its occupants and sending them from her phone to Watari's, Wedy pocketed it and knelt to use wire cutters on the cuffs binding Misa to the metal chair. Not much time remained. She made sure that all of her tools were back in her bag before lifting the unconscious girl.

"Ugh." Wedy thought Misa felt heavier than she looked and struggled for a moment to balance her over her shoulder. She didn't relish the thought of carrying her up two flights of stairs and then down through the garage. At least Wedy had already taken care of the doorknob, ensuring that once the door latched closed again, it would be some time before anyone from either side would be able to open it. Still wearing her gas mask, Wedy balanced her bag and the 'package' as she exited, shutting the door firmly behind her.

The door was shut and blocked as he gasped for air. _Now for the fun part_, Aiber thought, his expression caught between grimace and grin as he tucked his wig into one of the many pockets in his suit, exchanging it for something else. He began setting the charges in a circle in the center of the roof as the sky above him started to cloud over. _Don't rain on me now, dammit_, he thought, taking more charges and two other items out.

Odds were that Wedy had already secured the package by now, and Aiber knew he had to move fast. "I'm up top, ready to go – drinks are on me next week," Aiber spoke for the last time into the mike before turning it back off and placing it on top of a charge. 'Radio silence' was generally the policy after a job, to reduce the likelihood of being overheard or traced. The people who had evacuated might already be figuring out that there was no fire, but the city's fire department was likely soon to arrive. _Hate for them to miss the show_, Aiber thought, tying the long fuses together.

He moved along the roof toward the back of the building, the end of the trailing fuse barely within reach. The first of the distant sirens graced his ears over the muffled din of the alarms. "Showtime," he said, pulling on a bright red balaclava with snowflake graphics all over it.

Aiber bent to light the end of the fuse, and then turned and jumped off the 27-story building.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Searching

Turning off the alarms was not high on the list of priorities, but he was tempted to change that given how distracting they were. Mogi had not spoken again since they had left the main room and was regarding his surroundings with a healthy degree of suspicion. L was 87% certain he could trust him – an atypically high percentage. Mogi might not suspect Light to the extent that L did, but his reactions made it clear that such thoughts had already crossed his mind.

L paused outside the door to Watari's observation room. He gestured, his hand flat and moving backwards palm first as he looked over his shoulder at the larger man. Mogi unholstered his gun, keeping it low and close. The door itself told no tales – no marks to indicate that it had been forced, no evidence of traps, and it was closed as it always was. _That does not mean there is no danger_, L thought. L wondered if it was still locked as he reached out.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, L looked at Mogi to see the man shake his head once and move past him, gun raised. L wasn't sure whether to feel anger or gratitude – his life had been in danger for so long now, he had nearly forgotten what it felt like when someone stepped in to protect him. Someone other than Watari, in any event. L knew his feelings wouldn't be serving him well at this point, so he clamped down on them again and prepared himself.

Mogi had one hand on the doorknob and the other on his gun. He looked back at L and mouthed a countdown. _Three . . . two_ . . .

On "one," Mogi burst through the door and trained the gun on the room – the empty room. No locks, no traps, no sign of Watari. L entered and moved around the room, taking everything in. All the monitors were dark. No papers were present. An empty teacup was the only sign a person had been here. L sniffed it. _No indication of poison_, he thought.

As Mogi watched, L swung the door nearly closed, not latching it, feeling around the edge of the doorjamb with the tips of his fingers. L spun to face Mogi. "It is possible that a bug has been placed in this room, but I believe that this is unlikely." L kept his voice low. "There appears to have been no struggle. Based on the state of this room, I would estimate that there is at least a 61% chance that Watari is alive."

The furrow in Mogi's brow eased somewhat as he exhaled. "So we need to find where he might have gone."

"Yes. Which will either be very easy or very difficult, depending." L stared at the set of switches to the left of the door before remembering that he probably needed to explain. "Odds are it will be easy, unless he had time to set up remote switching." L gestured toward the console. "I see no evidence of that, so he should still be on this floor."

"I'm . . . not sure I follow, Ryuzaki."

"After deleting our data via the failsafe button on his computer, Watari locked the building down and then shut the power off, leaving us with emergency lights only. That is what this console does." L pointed.

"He . . . what?"

"Every single floor is locked down now, and no one can exit. Were the power to return, the elevators would still not work due to the bars now blocking their movement, and the stairwells are now blocked at each landing, only accessible by entering a unique passcode for each floor – which are automatically programmed to change every ten minutes."

Mogi seemed stunned. "Isn't that a fire hazard?"

"Mm. Yes, it is. I'm afraid we failed to mention these features to the zoning authorities when we had this building constructed."

Mogi looked appalled but said nothing.

"I am certain that Watari would not have activated the failsafe or lockdown without cause. In fact, although there is a chance that he locked the building down to keep a threat out, I would go so far as to conjecture that he _likely_ did this to prevent someone from leaving the building, possibly with classified information." L watched Mogi's face as recrimination was replaced with resolution.

"We need to find them." Mogi's tone was flat.

"Yes. I believe if we split up, we could –"

"No."

L's head jerked slightly. "We will cover more ground individually."

"It's only one floor. Easy, like you said. But we don't know exactly what we're facing, as you also said. Maybe it's just Light, one person. Or maybe several people are involved and Watari spotted them before we did. We have to rely on each other. Which you also said."

"I . . . did say that . . ." L regarded Mogi as though he was finally seeing him clearly.

"It won't take us long if we work as a team." Mogi looked L squarely in the eye.

"Alright." L jutted his chin toward the door. "Let's proceed down this hallway – we'll go clockwise, checking rooms as we go, until we've completed the circuit and are back in the main room."

Mogi nodded once and moved toward the door, as L opened it.

"Oh – one moment." L reached over and flipped one of the switches on the console, immediately rendering the alarms mute. "We'll need to be quieter now, but so will he." L gave a wan half-smile before moving through the door into the red-tinged gloom of the hallway.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Parachute Octopus Parade

The ground greeted him perhaps more quickly than he would have liked, but the jerry-rigged parachute/hang-glider he'd brought along had done the trick yet again, slowing him down enough so that he didn't even twist his ankle upon landing. Still masked, Aiber grinned at the people who had turned on the sidewalk to stare at him.

"Parachute octopus parade! Fun times and happy dancing! Watch tonight on Sakura TV!" Aiber shouted, stowing his mini-chute while hopping from foot to foot. Some people were still pushing past him, ignoring him, but others continued to stare. He waved his arms and spun around, moving down the sidewalk like a whirligig turned sideways, and a few people pointed and laughed. Aiber spotted an approaching double-decker tour bus and leapt toward the street, grabbing the guide rail by the door as it rumbled slowly along. "Parachute octopus parade! Parachute octopus parade! Whooooooeeeeee!" He waved back at the people on the street, hoping those observing were sufficiently confused and distracted by his antics as the bus he clung to continued to roll along as though he was a bird on a rhino.

Once the bus had gone through the next intersection, Aiber looked up in time to see the fiery display atop the building he'd just jumped off. _That took longer than expected_, he thought, watching red and yellow explosions light the sky from the fireworks he'd set to blow. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a stocky red-haired woman staring at him over her glasses through one of the lower bus windows, and Aiber turned to blow a kiss at her, gravity pulling at him as they rounded a curve.

Aiber saw a building he recognized and patted the side of the bus as if it was a faithful horse. "Thank you very much!" he shouted at the driver, who rolled his eyes at him. Aiber jumped down at the next corner and waved his arms wildly at the bus trundling away from him, before turning and sprinting down an alleyway, out of the crush of people. _Good thing I know this city well_, he thought.

_Nothing quite like boosting a car to make you nostalgic for the old days_, Wedy thought. Granted, she had not had to hotwire the car she now drove out of the garage the way her older brother had taught her, but it was just as well. She didn't like the idea of yanking the ignition wires out of such a lovely vehicle. Pocketing the bald man's keys when she'd disarmed him had been quite the fortuitous impulse. The Jaguar purred as she put some distance between her and the building.

She heard a faint cooing noise from the backseat and peered into the rearview mirror. Some of Misa's hair was poking out now, the gold locks in stark contrast with the black leather seat and the burgundy blanket covering her. Wedy had tried to rouse her with no luck, so she had placed a stimulant patch on the younger blonde in the hope that it would counteract the sedative gas she'd used in the basement room they'd just left behind.

Festive explosions fading in the background, Wedy switched on the radio, and Stravinsky boomed from the speakers. She adjusted the sound, but left it on, as it seemed to suit her mood.

Slinging a bag over his shoulder, a lucky find, Aiber followed a man in through the side entrance of a hotel, nodding and smiling as though he belonged there. "The wife'll kill me if she knows I went out," Aiber murmured, raising his eyebrows at the man, who nodded knowingly and kept moving. _People see what they want to see_, Aiber thought, tucking his tie into the bag where his jacket already was, undoing the top buttons of his shirt and donning his sunglasses as he walked. He tousled his blond hair, glancing into reflective metal as he passed the elevators, and headed toward the lobby, beginning to stagger ever so slightly.

_Yet another shiny hotel lobby_, Aiber mused; _I wonder if the glare is meant to blind people into overpaying for their rooms_. He winked at the woman standing stiffly at the concierge desk, keeping a lopsided grin on his face as people got out of his way, eager to avoid the strange European who was already drunk before nightfall. Aiber headed out the front entrance toward the queue of taxicabs. Throwing a hand in the air, still shambling slightly, he shouted "I'm going to Roppongi! You know where that is?"

A driver exited his cab and opened his door. "Yes sir," he said as Aiber got in.

Once the door was closed and he'd heard the driver call in his destination, Aiber leaned back. He knew he'd be changing the destination before they got there.

"Why the hell won't you answer me?" Wedy grumbled futilely at her cellphone. She wanted to confirm that she'd acquired the 'package,' but also, Watari hadn't told her where to bring Misa, and she knew she couldn't circle the city in a stolen vehicle indefinitely. She didn't want to bring the girl back to her room if she could avoid it, and she figured Aiber was still on the run after his stunt. Which meant Wedy would have to improvise – not her preferred approach to things. Wedy sighed.

_I could get her a hotel room of her own and charge L for it_, Wedy thought; _or I could move her someplace unexpected . . . or too expected_. Wedy smiled. The building she'd just come from was still too hot – police and fire fighters were probably all over it by now – but hiding somewhere in Misa's own building would do nicely. Wedy turned at the next light, preparing to cross the city.

She did not notice the stirring in the backseat until several blocks had gone by and it was too late.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Encounter

Ringing seemed to continue in his head, though the alarms had been off for some time now. They had made it most of the way around the floor, cautiously entering each room in turn while keeping watch on the hallway, but finding no one. L had pointed out a spot in the server room where the dust had been disturbed, but it wasn't clear to Mogi what, if anything, that meant. He was glad the LED light on his keychain had come in handy, even though they hadn't found much to help them understand what had happened.

As L had told him, the stairwell was blocked, just inside the door, with a large metal wall with a keypad in it – seeing his description confirmed made Mogi uneasy. _If we're trapped here, though, they must be too_, Mogi thought; _and if one of them managed to get into the stairwell before lockdown . . . well, they aren't going anywhere fast anyway_.

Steeling himself, Mogi entered the last door before they approached the main room – it was the rarely used women's bathroom, and though it was empty, a part of Mogi still expected to be yelled at for being there as he stepped inside. Echoing footfalls seemed to magnify as Mogi checked each of the stalls, pushing them gently open with the barrel of his gun. He scanned the room once more and moved back toward the door.

"It is possible that our movements are being anticipated and one or both of them are walking ahead of or behind us in the hall to avoid being seen." L's whisper seemed loud.

"If that's true, they're being very quiet." Mogi whispered back, the restroom door closing softly behind him.

L nodded, and the two men remained still for a moment, listening. Touching his arm lightly, L said "If we are unable to locate Watari, we may have to assume the worst." L leaned in, dropping his voice even lower. "I need your assurance that you will detain anyone else you find in this building, even if proof is not immediately forthcoming." L held Mogi's stare.

Mogi swallowed. "You have my word," he whispered back.

"Once we enter the main room again, if we find it empty, we will need to split up. Hear me out." L raised an index finger as Mogi opened his mouth. "If someone is remaining a few steps in front of or behind us, our best approach is to trap them between us. You will proceed around in the same direction we took before, while I will double back. You should remain stealthy, but perhaps not completely so – whisper occasionally as if you are conversing with me."

"Doesn't that mean you'll be more likely to encounter someone, if someone's trying to avoid me, thinking I'm . . . us?" Mogi asked.

"Possibly. It could also mean that you'll be ambushed for the same reason. Either way, we will both need to be on alert and work together to stop this person."

L regretted that they were back to talking about "this person" instead of just saying his name. Though he couldn't completely rule out the possibility that an attempt to breach the building's security by an outside force had been what had induced Watari to lock it down, the fact remained that they hadn't seen or heard Light or Watari, which meant that they were both hiding, or one was hiding while the other had met with foul play. L surmised that the chance of Watari hiding while Light had met with foul play to be next to zero. _I suppose it is easier for Mogi to think of Watari's potential attacker as a dangerous stranger rather than Light Yagami_, L thought, watching as Mogi slowly nodded his head. They moved together, re-entering the main room.

HQ was as empty as when they had left it. All of the monitors were dark, and not a chair or piece of paper seemed to have moved from where it had been. After looking behind the couches and in the corners, the two men nodded grimly to each other. Mogi proceeded forward through to the other hall entrance, and L turned and backtracked past the elevator toward the hall they'd just left.

Distant sibilance disrupted L's thoughts and he stopped to listen. _Is Mogi doing two voices?_ L wondered, slightly amused at the prospect of the stoic man mimicking his mannerisms. L refocused himself. _I must find Light, wherever he is hiding_.

His bare foot froze in mid-step. He could not believe he hadn't thought of it before. L silently sprinted back to the elevator and stared at the door. _The default location of this elevator is set at this level, but if it was above us_, L thought, rubbing his lip, _it is possible that a suitably motivated person could have scaled down the shaft – at least to the floor above the lobby, where the lockdown mechanism blocks it_. L considered shouting for Mogi, but decided that might put the other man in danger if he had guessed wrong.

With considerable effort, first prying with his fingers and then inserting himself bodily between the doors and pressing with his foot and back, L wedged the elevator doors open. He looked down into the shaft and was unsurprised to see only darkness. Inclining his head, trying not to move or make any sound while holding the heavy doors, he focused every part of his consciousness on listening.

No noise seemed to come from within the elevator shaft, but L felt the slightest of breezes on his cheek – a breeze from above. He kept his breathing steady, suddenly cheered by the news that the elevator was below rather than above him. This meant that the roof would be accessible – a scenario he knew Watari would have preferred if he had been trying to prevent someone from leaving the building. It was still possible that Watari had been harmed or killed, but he knew the old man's tendencies. _Watari can be quite stealthy when he needs to be_, L thought; _the chance that he is still alive has just risen to 76%_. Even as he was being squashed between metal doors, L felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.

_I must find Mogi and tell him this_, L thought, gradually extricating himself from the doors and letting them close with minimal sound. He took a deep breath and turned around – only to be brought up short. Rem hovered less than a meter away, fixing him with a baleful stare. L blinked.

"You said memory loss would be an acceptable outcome for Kira. Did you mean that?" Rem's voice, though hushed, seemed far too loud in the red-lit room.

"I . . . said that was possible, yes, but . . ." L whispered, staring up at the shinigami, "for a serial murderer to receive such a light punishment, that person would need to cooperate completely."

"The laws of your world do not concern me. If you want my help, you will protect Kira from death."

"Both of them?"

"Only one concerns me." Rem didn't hesitate to respond, to L's surprise. "Do what you wish with the other."

"Why should I believe you?" L leaned forward, eyes drinking in her reactions.

"Have you never done something well-intentioned that resulted in disaster?" Rem's face didn't change as she hovered, staring back at L.

L narrowed his eyes, thinking of everything that had occurred in his investigation of Kira, thinking, among other things, of twelve FBI agents and one former FBI agent. "I understand." L rubbed his left foot against his right shin. "So you admit to being Amane's protector."

Rem's head reared back. "I did not say that."

"There is no point in denying it – unless you were about to convince me that you wish to protect Light Yagami instead?" With no response from the shinigami, L continued. "If you want to ensure her safety, you must be more forthcoming. Your proposed arrangement of help in exchange for her protection will not work otherwise. And it would be tedious to pretend that we are not talking about the same person."

Rem was still hovering, as though she was considering flying off at any moment. "I do not trust you."

L wondered why the shinigami would trust anyone, given her dislike of humans. "To gain trust, one must extend it." He pulled at his lip. "Of course, you don't really _need_ to trust me, since you can kill me at any time."

"You do not trust me either." Rem's tone was matter-of-fact, acknowledging what he had not said, and L showed her a rare smile. "Fine," Rem continued, "to gain _your_ trust, I will tell you something I should never have told any human. When a shinigami cares about a human and kills another human in order to extend the lifespan of the cared-for human . . . that shinigami will die."

L's mouth hung slightly open, fingers poised and forgotten in front of it, eyes widening further. "Of course." Pulling at his lip with renewed fervor, eyes glazing, his mind raced over the details of the case. "It's the only reason any of us is still alive, isn't it . . ."

Rem seemed to understand the rhetorical nature of the question and remained silent.

L began nodding to himself and then remembered to speak. "So you wish to protect her _and_ yourself."

Rem sighed. "I would be willing to die to protect Misa, but I cannot leave her unprotected." She seemed resigned, drifting, head hanging. "I do not want to die. But I will do what is necessary to save her."

"I wonder what could possibly have happened for you to care so deeply for a single human out of all the others." L gazed up at her, wondering _Why Misa, of all people?_

"I do not owe you that explanation. I have already told you more than I had intended."

"Mm. Yes, I imagine that might be quite personal. I withdraw the question." L glanced away from the shinigami for a moment, adjusting to his new circumstances while calculating the likelihood of someone jumping out at him while he conversed. "I must insist that you keep our arrangement a secret from the others and in particular from Light."

"That is fine."

"Then we have a deal. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find Light and subdue him, as I believe he may have caused harm to Watari." L took a step back and turned.

"The human you call Watari is unharmed. And Light is in the shaft behind you, already subdued."

L had frozen in place at the mention of Watari and was now slowly turning back to face Rem. ". . . How do you know this?"

Rem looked at L sidelong. "I was watching Watari watch Light. I do not know what Light was doing, but he did not harm Watari."

"Rem . . . by 'subdued', do you mean . . ."

"He is not dead. When I saw him, he was unconscious."

"I see. And how long ago was that?"

"Ten minutes ago."

L kept his face impassive. _If she is not lying, then I can see how having her as an ally could be handy indeed_, he thought, _though I must not become too dependent on her help_. "Thank you, Rem. If you could remain in the shadows observing things and reporting anything relevant to me, that would be quite useful. Is there anything else I should know?"

"L . . ."

"Please call me Ryuzaki."

"Very well. Ryuzaki, how do I know that you will keep up your end of the bargain? You have not yet shown me how you will earn _my_ trust."

L tapped his thumb on his chin. "What if I were to bring Misa back here? That way you and I can both talk to her, and you can –"

"If you do that, you must make sure she is unharmed!" Rem interrupted, her voice growing louder.

"Well, it would hardly be 'keeping up my end of the bargain' if I allowed her to be harmed, would it." L fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Do not let Light see her." Rem's eye was narrowed.

"Hm. Are you saying that Light might write Misa's name in his Death Note?" _That would certainly prove that he is Kira, not to mention being a sort of justice – not poetic, perhaps, but fitting_, thought L.

"Light was supposed to protect her, but I do not believe he will keep his word." Rem seemed to give up the information grudgingly.

L turned to face the elevator, unable to keep the smile completely from his face. "Understood. Misa will be brought here and kept safe. We will keep Light . . . in the dark. I must go now if I am to . . ." As L looked back toward Rem, he saw the last of her fading into a wall. "Hm." After a long pause, he heard a soft footfall.

". . . Mogi?" L tensed, looking in the direction of the hall from which they'd emerged earlier, and Mogi stepped through.

"I was following the same path as we planned, Ryuzaki. When we didn't meet in the middle, I continued around, and . . . then I started hearing voices." Mogi still had his gun in both hands, pointed at the floor as he looked around the room before meeting L's eyes again. "What happened?"

"Shortly after I started down the hall, I realized we hadn't checked the elevator shaft. I came back and opened the doors – it was too dark to see anything, but the wind direction indicated that the elevator is below this floor, which means that the roof is accessible. I was about to find and tell you this when the shinigami surprised me."

"Really?" Mogi's face lit up for a moment, his grip on the gun loosening somewhat. "What did she say?"

"Mm. She is as inscrutable as ever, but she did admit that Light is in the shaft, and Watari is unharmed."

"That's . . . that's good news." Mogi kept his face blank, hiding his disappointment.

"Actually, I would say that is excellent news, though as yet unproven." L extended a hand. "Might I borrow your light?"

"My . . . oh, yes – here." Mogi dropped his keychain into L's palm.

"Thank you." L began struggling with the doors again, and Mogi stepped in to help. Wrenching the doors open, L aimed the keychain's LED down into the darkness and pressed the button. Though the light was not strong enough to illuminate everything, they were able to make out the still form of Light Yagami on top of the elevator car two floors below them.

"Is he . . ."

"He is alive." L's expression was grim. "We will have to extract and restrain him."

Mogi sighed. "OK, Ryuzaki."

"Mogi." L spoke without looking directly at him. "Whatever you may have overheard, please promise me that you will keep it to yourself."

Mogi stared, jaw clenched, until L met his eye. "I will."

L nodded once. "Let's go then."

On the one hand, Mogi wished that he had heard more about what sort of "arrangement" L had just made with Rem, resenting that L wanted to keep the entire Task Force out of the loop. On the other hand, Mogi almost wished he had heard nothing. _He should be getting the shinigami to tell the Task Force what she told him_, Mogi thought, though he wondered if Rem would do so, and if the Task Force would believe her anyway. "Hold on."

"Hm?"

"Let me get something to keep the doors open." Mogi walked into the room and pulled one of the couches over to the elevator, shoving one end in with some effort as he and L held the doors. Mogi nodded. "Ready."

L lowered himself down first and Mogi followed, a slash of red bisecting the darkness as they moved toward Light.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Looooong chapter is long. I realize that if I had left the last section to the next chapter, there would have been more of a cliffhanger, but . . . meh. Too many cliffhangers are annoying anyway, right?

It may be a couple of chapters before Aizawa and Ide reappear, btw, but they will _definitely_ be back. I have a ridiculous number of plot-ends to tie up now, don't I? I'm such a dork. 8-D Speaking of dorkiness, I haven't included this in the story (because, er, it's boring), but since it makes no sense for the HQ building to only have one elevator, in my version there are three elevators, but the other two, facing in the opposite direction as the one that opens into the main HQ room, don't go to the roof or into the garage and won't stop at the HQ level (the other two elevators don't even have doors on that level), for security purposes. It makes no _less_ sense than what's in the manga . . . I must have latent architect genes crying out at what's wrong with that building, so much so that I made it even more wrong (those lockdown "features" are WAY against building code!).


	18. Shifting Solutions

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, meeting Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

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**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 18: Shifting Solutions

Reeling

Struggling seemed hopeless – she felt as though she must be underwater, pinned somehow, the pressure on her chest unbearable. A strange thump sounded nearby, but she could not say what she was reaching for. Parts of her screamed a need to move, to escape, but she felt so heavy. Was an anchor on top of her? Or was she the anchor? _Slipping anchor_ . . . _slipping_ . . .

"Yeah?" He crunched a mint absently, his voice a little too loud as he spoke into his cellphone. "Nah, s'all good. You wouldn't believe what – huh?" Aiber stiffened, making an effort not to drop his semi-drunken act. "Well, no, she didn't, but that's just like her. Did she get it?"

Aiber listened, glad he was still wearing his shades. "Yeah, maybe, but I'm closer – I can get there. Uh-uh. Wait, what?" Taking a deep breath, Aiber reeled in his anger. "That's – are you sure?" He tried to slur his words a bit more, if only for the cabbie's sake. "Yeah. OK, I guess I'll meetcha there. You got it! Later."

Aiber clapped the phone shut, rubbing his forehead. _Why would he want to let her be caught?_ he wondered; _there's got to be more of a plan than this_. He looked up and noticed that they were approaching the bar he'd asked to go to. Running fingers through his hair, Aiber put on his best shit-eating grin.

"I hate to tell you this, buddy, but I need to go somewhere else now. You mind takin' me?"

The driver glanced back at him in the rearview mirror and shrugged. "It's your money."

Aiber laughed. "It _is_, isn't it!" He leaned forward against the seat back, hoping the mints would mask the complete lack of alcohol on his breath. "I'm gonna give you directions, but I gotta look it up on my phone. Just take this next left, OK?"

_Anchor_ . . . Lights swirled around her, bright colors stinging her eyes. _Schools of fish? Reds and blues . . . Why is my mouth so dry if I'm drowning?_ Wedy thought. She was moving somehow, floating, though she could not tell up from down.

"Don't try to talk, hon, you hit your head, but you're going to be fine."

The voice sounded so close, almost real. _My head? When did I_ . . .

Wedy's eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright. She felt several hands on her, pulling, and she heard shouting. _Who is shouting?_

"No no no, you've got to lay down. We'll find your package, hon, just stay down. You're going to be fine."

_What happened? Where is the package? Why is everything moving?_

"That's it, hon, lay down, that's good . . . _We need to stabilize her!_"

_Stabilize . . . stable_ . . .

Wedy drifted back out of consciousness, horses now pounding in her head as the ambulance continued on its way to the nearest hospital.

Slouched in the backseat as the cab navigated the streets, Aiber wished that he and Wedy had planned to reconnoiter somehow. Even if it hadn't prevented whatever had happened to her, he might at least know something useful. It just hadn't occurred to him that anything might go wrong on her end – Wedy was a pro. The only time she'd ever slipped up that he knew of was when he had caught her, which could hardly be considered a fair fight, since L had orchestrated it all.

"Hey buddy – you know where we're going yet?" The cabbie sounded casual, but Aiber knew he had to be wondering if he was going to skip out on his fare.

"Yeah, I think I've got it figured out now. I know there's places closer and stuff, but . . . I gotta get to this one place." Aiber gestured vaguely with his phone. "I'm meetin' a friend at his favorite coffee shop, and he promised," Aiber paused to belch, "lots and lots of pretty college girls, heh heh. I got the address right here."

As Aiber prepared to give the driver more coherent information, he wondered at the permutations this simple job had taken, and at what permutations might be yet to come.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Scaling Up

The climb seemed unending, the repetitive nature of grabbing handhold after handhold in the dark having a nearly hypnotic effect. Keeping pace with L was proving more difficult than he would have thought, but Mogi supposed the detective was anxious to get to the top.

Mogi was still going over what he'd overheard in his head. _"I must insist that you keep our arrangement a secret," L said – but why?_ Mogi thought. _And why does the shinigami want to protect Misa?_ It was all a bit dizzying – much as the elevator shaft would be if he could see it. Mogi tried to clear his thoughts. It disturbed him that not only had L made a deal with a god of death, but that Light had apparently done so as well. _The shinigami was so worried that Light would harm or even kill Misa – she practically said Light was Kira, _Mogi thought._ But what was Light supposed to protect Misa from?_ _ From being caught by us, or from another Kira?_ He shook sweat out of his eyes and kept climbing.

Hoisting Light's unconscious body out of the shaft had been awkward, but they had managed to extract him without causing further injury. Light had seemed to have a small bump on his head and a couple of scrapes, but nothing had appeared broken. Mogi had asked L if he thought Light might have a concussion – after holding both of Light's eyes open with his fingers, L had dismissed the idea. They'd brought him to a room set up for interrogation and managed to strip and bind him before he'd started to stir, wondering aloud why he was being strapped to a cold metal slab. "This is for your protection," L had told Light, securing a metal plate in front of his eyes. Light had laughed, a harsh sound. Mogi had wanted to ask L if it was safe to leave him bound and alone even in a locked room, but not knowing the nature of the deal L had made with Rem, he'd held his tongue. He thought idly of Higuchi and decided that making deals with shinigami was a bad idea, whatever one's intentions.

A burst of light sliced into the darkness and Mogi looked up, squinting, to see that L had reached the top and was attempting to open the doors himself.

"Ryuzaki! Wait for me – you'll fall!" Mogi started climbing faster, wondering why a genius would be so eager to defy the laws of physics.

"I am simply trying to – unh . . ." L grunted with the effort, "prop them open enough so that we can see what we are doing." The doors shut again, taking daylight with them as L seemed to curse in a language unfamiliar to Mogi, the echoing sound of it strangely musical.

"I'm almost there – when I get to you, I can hold you in place and you can try again." Mogi kept moving, hoping that the increasing slickness on his hands would not cause him to lose his grip. Reaching for another rung, his hand met flesh, and he realized he was touching L's foot.

"Ah. There you are."

"Sorry, Ryuzaki."

"Not at all. If you can move further up, you may be able to steady me as you suggested, but we do not have much room in which to work – ironically, given our location." L's voice echoed.

"I'll try. Stay still." Taking the time to wipe the sweat from his hands on his pants, Mogi stepped up on the ladder-like rungs embedded in the elevator shaft, reaching past L's body as he moved. He managed to stand on a rung just below the one L stood on and struggled to get his other hand around to grip the handhold, his arms now on either side of L. He could feel the Death Note, still tucked into the back of L's pants, pressing against his abdomen. "This is . . ."

"Awkward, yes." L's tone was somewhat clipped. "If we do not get these doors open, however, our long climb will have been pointless." Moving his body closer to the wall, L took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

_I'm not going to get any more ready than this_, Mogi thought, not relishing the close contact. "Ready."

L extended himself, reaching up once more to pry at the doors with his fingers. Sunlight shot in, tinged orange, as L seemed to put all his strength into pushing the doors apart and Mogi steadied him from behind. Mogi wasn't sure how either of them would make it through uninjured without something to prop the doors open, though he supposed they could deal with a few bruises from the doors shutting on them as they climbed through. _As long as we don't fall_, he thought, grimacing. Mogi craned his neck, chin brushing the back of L's shirt, trying to see if there was anything nearby that they could use.

"Do you see anything useful?" L's voice was strained as he seemed to read Mogi's mind.

"Not yet," Mogi replied. He refused to give up, gripping the metal rungs as firmly as he could as he continued to scan the shaft for some kind of prop.

"Here – let me help you with that."

Both men looked up with a start. Watari smiled down at them while placing a flat metal I-bar between the doors, keeping them open. First L and then Mogi clambered out into the windowed hall, their feet squeaking on the shiny floor. "How did you . . . ?"

"The bar was in the top of the shaft for this very purpose, Mogi." Watari seemed amused. "I took the liberty of removing it after I'd used it in the event someone with less than noble intentions followed me up."

"It is good to see that you are unharmed, Watari." L's soft smile seemed warm and strangely unguarded.

"Likewise, Ryuzaki." Watari's eyes twinkled. "And where might young Mr. Yagami be?"

"Light is restrained and secured." Already L's voice had reverted to a state where it betrayed no emotion.

"And the information he procured?"

"Well, since the power is off, we have not yet accessed the contents of his flashdrive," L held up the stick-of-gum-sized drive, "but it will be interesting to see what he was trying to steal."

"Indeed."

"Is that why you shut down the building? Information theft?" Mogi kept his voice neutral. He was glad that Watari was safe but irritated at what seemed like an overreaction.

"It is, Mogi. I must keep all of the information here absolutely confidential, even at the expense of losing it if necessary."

"But our whole case . . . everything we compiled . . ." The loss of all the information they'd gathered on the entire Kira case hit him with renewed force.

"Yes, it is an unfortunate loss." Watari seemed sympathetic, but not upset.

"Unfortunate?" Mogi felt his cheeks flush and knew he was losing the battle for neutrality.

"Watari. I believe that we can trust Mogi." L sounded firm, his words heavy with unspoken meaning. He stared at Watari for several seconds until the older man sighed.

"Very well." Watari turned to Mogi. "You must keep this in the strictest of confidence, Mogi. I cannot stress that enough."

Mogi felt like he'd already made far too many promises over the past 24 hours, but found himself nodding anyway. "Of course."

"At a certain time, which varies from morning to morning," Watari continued, "an encrypted copy of the Task Force's data files is uploaded to a remote computer accessible only by Ryuzaki. These uploads are not recorded in our system here, so there is no information trail to be traced. These files will not be lost unless Ryuzaki fails to access the remote computer for a consecutive 21 days following a system wipe. So the information we have gathered still exists. However," Watari said sternly, "we must continue to _behave_ as though everything is lost in order to protect that information."

"At least until this case is solved." L added.

Watari looked sharply at L, to Mogi's surprise. "Perhaps. Though I believe concealing the method by which we retained the data will still be necessary."

"I doubt the method will matter much once this is all concluded." L countered, unflinching.

"Look – I'll keep it a secret, for however long you say. Just tell me when, or if, it doesn't have to be a secret anymore." Mogi felt uncomfortable at the near-argument between Watari and L. _Is this what they're like when we're not around?_ he wondered. He felt the sweat from his climb cooling on him and fought the urge to shiver.

"Excellent. Thank you, Mogi." L seemed to think the matter was settled and began walking away from the gaping elevator doors.

"But . . . what about the building?" Mogi asked. "It's still in lockdown."

"I am going to trigger the reset mechanism now." L called behind him. "There will be a four-hour delay in the release of the lockdown itself, but main power should come back on immediately."

"Ryuzaki, there is one other thing." Watari spoke at L's retreating back. "The package we've been expecting has been lost."

L stopped, back still turned, silent for a moment. "Then we shall have to retrieve it." He resumed his walk, not turning around.

Mogi wondered, of all the secret things he now knew, how many more there were that he would never know. Feeling fading sunlight on his face, he suddenly felt glad to be in the dark about some things.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Confidence

_Fools. Whatever they're planning, it makes no difference. They have no evidence. Without solid proof, they can't do anything to me. Circumventing the law won't work – they'd have to convince my father, and they won't be able to do that with only circumstantial evidence._

_Still, I'm surprised they took it this far. Restraining me is one thing, but taking my clothes and possessions? Maybe they think they're demoralizing me. But I'm stronger than that. Didn't you learn anything from my prior confinement, L? You can't win by taking my dignity. Doing this to me now, it's just going to make my victory over you all the sweeter. That day is coming sooner than you think._

_I can't help but wonder what you said to poor Mogi to make him go along with this. Strapping me half-naked to a metal slab in a room for my own 'protection'? You must have known I wouldn't believe that, but I don't know why Mogi would – he's usually smarter than that. Guess I gave him more credit than he deserved._

_Even if Rem betrays me, L, I will still win. Misa would never betray me, and it's only a matter of time before you'll be forced to release me. You only found one of my flashdrives. The other one, the one with the image file on it, is somewhere you will never reach._

Light Yagami's laughter rang back hollow in the empty room with no one to hear it but himself. With the blind over his eyes, he did not notice when the lights came back on.

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Trajectory

There was nothing quite like seeing the sun set from a helicopter. As the sun began to embrace the horizon, melting into it, the silvery skyscrapers seemed to turn to copper, shining and warm. This was certainly not where Watari had expected to find himself at this point in the day. _As ever, one must adapt to changing circumstances_, he thought.

He looked over at L, who was piloting with aplomb, his irritation at having to put his spare sneakers on already forgotten. He seemed to enjoy operating it himself, though Watari was certainly qualified to do so. He felt it was important to allow L a few pleasures, as long as they did not prove too distracting.

L had seemed mildly surprised to hear that Takahashi of the Yotsuba Six had been the one to take Misa from her apartment, but had said nothing more about it as they had begun their flight. Watari had opted not to tell L of the shinigami's antics, however, realizing that there would be nothing to gain by annoying L with it, let alone reminding him that he had touched the Death Note page Wedy had stolen despite L's specific instructions to the contrary. _He knows me well enough to realize I would have touched it anyway_, he thought, _and my being able to see the other shinigami has already proven useful to us_.

He felt himself being pulled to one side and looked down to note that they were beginning their approach to the helipad at To-Oh University Hospital.

"Do you have everything in order?" he asked, knowing that he did not have to ask.

"Yes, Watari." L kept his eyes on his task.

Though Watari was not pleased to have let Mogi in on the secret of their data recovery system – not the least of which was because Mogi was unlikely to be able to act suitably upset in front of the others regarding the presumed data loss – he did recognize the advantage of preventing any potentially mutinous behavior. Certainly the man was tight-lipped enough by nature and thus more likely to honor his promise, which Watari took some comfort in. Most importantly, Light had been contained. As many risks as L might take, Watari had to do that much more to mitigate those risks. L's safety – everyone's safety – depended on it.

With a bump or two, the helicopter settled down on the round target marked in white as the sky became suffused in red around them. Three people in white doctor's coats stood waiting for them a few meters from the helipad, coattails flapping.

"Ready?" Watari smiled, his eyes hooded, already knowing the answer.

"Yes." L was watching the doctors, who were clutching their coats as the wind from the slowing blades buffeted them.

Watari adjusted his own white coat, obtained from a top floor closet of such items kept on hand for contingencies such as this, and stepped out of the helicopter, pocketing the keys as L surreptitiously slipped them to him. Ducking until he was clear of the blades, he approached the waiting group with confidence.

"It's an honor to meet you, Dr. Winchester." The female doctor spoke first, bowing low.

"It's lovely to meet you as well," Watari intoned, surveying them. "Let us get right down to business, shall we? As I indicated when I called, I have been charged with the task of conducting an impromptu inspection of your emergency room in operation. Could you please take me there immediately?"

"Uh, of course, doctor, right away . . ." The younger male doctor was looking over Watari's shoulder with a somewhat flummoxed expression.

"Oh, yes." Watari gestured behind himself without looking. "This young man is a student at To-Oh. It happened that I was paying his father a visit when I was called in for the inspection. He was eager to demonstrate his piloting skills and so agreed to bring me here." Watari ignored the continued confused expressions on the doctors' faces and turned to L, who was coatless and hunched, staring at them in his usual fashion. "Don't wander too far, Ryuga. This won't take long."

"I won't, Dr. Winchester." There was a note of amusement to L's voice that Watari was reasonably sure only he had caught. "Perhaps I will get some coffee on campus."

"Excellent idea, my boy." Watari turned back to the three in white. "Please, lead on, doctors."

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Author's Note: UPDATED! I altered the section with Wedy and Aiber slightly, so hopefully it's a bit easier to follow, and I had to change one of Watari's thoughts because it contradicted something, whoopsie.

Yes yes, a shorter chapter, but not too short, I hope! Swinging back and forth between Wedy and Aiber felt more awkward this time, but hopefully the continuation of the convention I used kept things clear enough. Also, I always thought it was slightly unfair that Misa was bound in a more extreme way than Light was when they were first confined in canon, so . . . I guess I decided to balance that out. I know, I know, Misa had 'the eyes' and Light didn't, but they just cuffed his hands and feet and chucked him in a room, sheesh. O.o Yay parity!

And more parallels – both Wedy and Light with potential concussions? We'll see . . . I sure did empty out HQ, though, didn't I. Oops. Well, they'll be back. Probably. Still working out the ending for this, but at least I know I'm past the halfway point now. I think.

PS: Does anyone know any actually-used expletives in Russian? Or Ukrainian? Please send me a private message if you do! (That . . . sounded weird. It's fic-related and non-pervy, tyvm.)


	19. Items May Settle

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, meeting Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

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**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 19: Items May Settle

Mirrors

The sense of déjà vu was jarring, due in part to the change in person. Mogi wasn't sure exactly why he found it so disturbing to see Light bound in the same way Misa had been. _Is it just that he's . . . male?_ Mogi wondered. _Is it that he's been on the Task Force, working alongside us for so long? Or is it _. . . He watched as Light smiled again, as if he was holding a conversation inside his head, and suppressed a shudder.

_At least he's conscious_, Mogi thought. L had assured him that Light did not have a concussion – "There is no evident anisocoria," had been L's exact words before Mogi had asked him to explain – but Mogi wondered if L would have told him if that was the case. It worried him that he could not be completely certain of how injured Light might be. Mogi was determined to keep his promises to L and Watari, but he did not look forward to explaining the situation to Chief Yagami. He'd made a promise to Soichiro too, though he doubted this was what the other man had had in mind when he'd asked Mogi to 'keep an eye on things.'

By the time Mogi had climbed back down the elevator shaft after watching L and Watari lift off, the lights were back on and the sky showing through the windows of the kitchen was purpling over. Not normally one to snack, he'd grabbed some chips and some water before walking back into HQ to attend to his duty. He wondered what Aizawa would think of all this and could almost hear his exclamations. Mogi shook his head. _Now who's having conversations in their head?_

Looking over Light's gown-draped, strapped-down, and propped-up form on the central monitor, Mogi felt aimless. The lack of a solid goal was an unsoothable ache, like a missing tooth. There was no database to update, no research to conduct, no one to find and protect, no mission objective other than "Watch Light, but do not interact with him" – L's words echoed back to him. He was a patient man, but the events of the day, and their implications, had agitated Mogi. Glancing at the stack of print-outs, he decided to start recreating his database, if for no other reason than to keep his hands busy and distract from his inner tumult.

_I wonder if this is how Matsuda feels all the time_, Mogi wondered. He smiled ruefully and glanced at his cell again – still no calls or texts. He hoped they were safe. He hoped all of them would be safe.

Deflecting

The phone rang a few times before being answered.

"Yes? Oh, hello, Arthur. Yes, yes, I've been waiting for your call, but unfortunately I'm in the middle of something right now. We can reconnect later, but – actually, why don't you give my associate a call? You remember, a Mr. M? He should be able to answer your questions in the meantime. Thanks very much."

The call was abruptly terminated.

"Well? What did he say?"

"It – that had to be one of most nonsensical conversations I've ever had." Soichiro removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "It sounded like he was pretending to be someone else, and I can't be sure, but from the noise in the background . . . I don't think Watari is at HQ at the moment."

"What?" Matsuda's head reared back. "But that's – why would he leave?"

"I don't know." Soichiro was unable to keep the aggravation completely from his voice. "Whatever his reasons, he told me I should contact a 'Mr. M.'" He put his glasses back on, sighing.

"Mr. M? Do you think he means me? Except . . . I don't know any more than you do, since I've been with you the whole time . . ."

Soichiro's eyes were distant for a moment. "Well . . . there is at least one other Mr. M on the Task Force, if that's what he meant."

"Oh right! Mogi! I haven't even had a chance to text him since this morning – I hope his day wasn't too boring." Matsuda patted his hip, looking down as if he had forgotten that he was wearing pale green doctor's scrubs.

Soichiro guessed that things might have gotten unusual back at HQ if Watari was out, possibly on his own. "I'll call him, Matsuda." He dialed Mogi's number, hoping that everyone, especially his son, was safe.

Coffee Talk

"Mondo Mocha with a doubleshot of hazelnut and whipped cream!" Order filled, and shouted, the barista tossed her pink and black hair, retreating from the counter.

He watched as L approached the enormous coffee confection and cradled it in both hands before walking steadily over to the table where he was sitting. Seeing L in a public place always seemed surreal to Aiber, as though a line between worlds had been crossed. The mug, whipped cream wobbling precariously on top of it, descended gently to the table.

"It is good to see you again, Professor Argent, though I am surprised that you are in Japan." L spoke as he perched himself on a chair, meeting Aiber's eyes briefly before bending forward to lick at the whipped cream.

"Well, I'm here visiting a colleague, but I couldn't leave for home without seeing my former star pupil. How are your studies, Ryuga?" Aiber hoped he was striking the right balance of warm yet formal, and that enough time had passed for it to seem reasonable for him to behave with more sobriety – he had staggered into the coffee shop to maintain the impression he was drunk for the sake of the cabbie, in case the man was ever questioned, and the baristas had regarded him warily as a result. The sight of L entering the shop as the sun set had been quite a surprise, since he had been expecting Watari.

"Oh, my studies are going well. If anything, they are less of a challenge than I had anticipated." L rescued an errant blob of whipped cream with his finger and popped it into his mouth, heedless of any eyes on him.

"You haven't changed a bit." Aiber chuckled, wondering unconcernedly how they would proceed. "I expect to be taking courses taught by you in a year or so."

L raised an eyebrow. "That's unlikely. I do not have the temperament to be a teacher. Sadly, some skills will always be beyond me." For a moment, L seemed almost genuinely sad at that, and Aiber wondered how close he was skewing to the truth in his 'student' act.

"Did you get the package I sent you?" Aiber watched L's face, knowing he would note the topic shift. _Down to business_, he thought.

"No, not yet, but then the mail here can be unreliable. Sometimes things get misdirected to the hospital." L looked Aiber in the eye, and Aiber nodded.

"Of course, of course. I sent it awhile ago – I hope it gets to you soon! It would be a pity if anything spoiled. Had I brought my laptop with me, I could have tracked it for you from here." Aiber's voice, though not loud, carried well enough in their corner of the coffee shop. He downed the rest of his espresso and glanced at the window, watching reflections.

"Indeed, that would . . ."

A faint sound drew the attention of the two men. "I . . . hello, I . . . oh –" The young woman blushed furiously, her glasses seeming to mist over slightly under their combined gaze. "I'm sorry – I couldn't help but overhear . . ." She gestured vaguely to where she'd been sitting at a table further from the window just to L's left. "But, um, if you needed to borrow a laptop, I . . . I could . . . help?" She gripped her laptop, extended in front of her, as if she was afraid it might fly away or explode.

"That . . . would be helpful, yes." L continued to stare at her as another blush rushed over her cheeks.

"Please have a seat. It's very kind of you to offer to help us." Aiber smiled, gesturing open-handed to the chair vacant at their table.

"Th-thank you." As the girl sat down, she opened her laptop with tremulous hands, not looking at either man, short dark hair falling forward to bracket her glasses. L knew that Aiber could be very charming but felt strange to be observing the phenomenon so close at hand.

"We need to try and track a package I sent to my former student here – by the way, I'm Dr. Argent, and this is –"

"Hideki Ryuga," she finished for Aiber, as he and L raised their eyebrows. She blushed again, ducking her head before looking back up at L. "I remember you from the freshman address." Her eyes slipped lower, seeming to take in the full extent of L's unusual sitting manner.

"Ah, yes, although that was some time ago. I was trying to place where I've seen you – do we have a class together?" L felt awkward trying to make small talk but reasoned that if she was so flustered by Aiber's charm that she had trouble even opening her laptop, L would have to keep her focused. _There is no point in wasting this opportunity, particularly since Aiber so skillfully manipulated her into joining us_, L thought.

"I . . . don't think so. We've probably just seen each other around, um, on campus." She seemed to be concentrating very hard on the screen in front of her, neck stiff, earlobes bright pink.

"Hm. Well, unfortunately, I seem to have forgotten your name." Without breaking his stare, L sipped at his syrup and cream-laden mocha.

"Ha ha! _That's_ OK! Most people don't seem to remember . . ." Her high-pitched laugh drew a couple of stares from the other tables even as her voice dropped to a mumble. Seeming to realize that she hadn't answered the question, she looked up abruptly to stare back at L. "My name's Kyoko! Kyoko Yoneda."

L dipped his head once in her direction. "It is pleasant to make your acquaintance, Kyoko Yoneda. And we very much appreciate your assistance." L's eyes slid to her laptop.

"Oh! Yes. Um . . . which shipping company did you use?" Kyoko looked timidly at Aiber.

"My father owns Argent Incorporated, so I used their in-house shipping service to get the package to Japan, but they probably would have subcontracted with a delivery service here." Aiber reached toward Kyoko. "May I?"

"Oh, um, sure, I guess so . . ." Kyoko pushed her laptop toward him and watched as Aiber turned it toward himself and began tapping on the keyboard.

L watched eagerly and wished he had gotten a pastry as well. _I suppose I am going to have to keep this girl distracted while Aiber works_, he thought, tipping the rest of his mocha down his throat, slurping at the syrup and cocoa that had settled at the bottom of the mug. Setting it down, L licked his lips, trying to think of an appropriate topic when he heard a soft gasp. "Is something wrong?" he asked, his eyes now fully focused on Kyoko.

"No! Nothing's, uh, nothing's wrong." Kyoko suddenly seemed to find her hands, clasped before her on the table, to be very, very interesting.

L glanced at Aiber to see what looked like a smirk on the other man's face. _If she's this distracted by him_, L thought, _perhaps it's best if he holds her attention instead_. L reached for the laptop. "You don't seem to be making much progress, Professor – allow me to help."

Sliding his spent mug toward Kyoko to make room for her computer, her gaze following his fingers, L shifted the laptop to face him and immediately began typing. He felt it was wrong to waste time teasing the poor girl when there was so much to be done, but now was not the time or place to admonish Aiber. He worked furiously, their eyes on his blank face, not daring to slow down. He knew that if anything he did beggared believability, Aiber would cover for him.

Aiber chuckled, the sound warm. "I get along OK on the computer, but Ryuga here could always run circles around me." Aiber turned to Kyoko. "So, what are you majoring in, young lady?"

"Huh? Oh – I'm a double major, in Literature and History. Or I will be, once they let me declare."

The surrounding sounds and sights were there and not there for L. He observed them all peripherally, storing them up for later as he kept focused on his task. The whooshing and grinding of cappuccino preparation, the shuffling of papers and feet, the clattering of chairs and laptops, the cocoon of idle conversation insulating him – all stored, along with the flash of headlights at the window, the movement of students, jeans frayed at the heels, sidling along the counter to collect their cups, and Kyoko's dark eyes slipping toward him intermittently to watch as he typed. _Almost done, almost_ . . .

"Done." L stopped typing and closed the laptop with his index finger, sliding it back to Kyoko, dipping his head in her direction as he met her eyes. "Thank you very much."

"Oh, you're welcome! Where was it?" Kyoko smiled, her cheeks still ruddy.

L blinked. "The package was misdelivered to one of the pre-Med dormitories. I will have to retrieve it there." L thought Kyoko seemed to be waiting for something. "Your assistance was invaluable. Thank you again."

"Um, yeah! Sure thing. I guess I'll . . . see you around campus?"

"That is possible."

"OK, yeah." Kyoko looked away, swallowing. "I'm, um, glad you found what you were looking for." She bent her head, reaching forward to touch her laptop with her fingertips as if to confirm that it was still there.

L stepped down from his chair, looking pointedly at Aiber over Kyoko's head. "We should get going."

"Yes, of course, Ryuga." Aiber stood as well, turning toward Kyoko as L edged sideways past the back of her chair in the close space. "It was very nice to meet you, Ms. Yoneda." Her eyes lifted briefly to meet his. "Best of luck to you in your studies, and . . . everything else." Aiber flicked his eyes to L and back to her with a wink before turning away.

After walking along the sidewalk for a few minutes in silence, the crisp evening air soothing in contrast to the mugginess of the shop, Aiber spoke. "Did you finish everything you needed to?" Opening his bag, he extracted his jacket and slipped it on.

"Mm, well, given the limited time and resources, I did as much as I could do . . . which is not to say _everything_ I needed, but it will have to suffice." L pulled at his lip. "I was able to alter the hospital records concerning Wedy's admission and cover my tracks, as well as trace the police report on the related incident and make some alterations there too. Oh, and I created a dummy page for Argent Incorporated, though I'm afraid it's not as detailed as it should be. It was easy enough after that have the browser history show a search for its shipping department . . ." L looked over at Aiber, who was laughing. "Why is this amusing?"

"Is that _all_ you did? Slacker." Aiber was shaking his head, still grinning.

L narrowed his eyes. "Actually, I took the liberty of setting Kyoko's laptop up to reformat itself repeatedly, starting in . . . 5 more minutes, or the next time it's turned on, if she's turned it off."

The smile faded from Aiber's face. "That's a bit harsh."

"It was necessary."

"I know. Still."

"Hopefully the sum of money I transferred into Kyoko's account from Argent Incorporated will be sufficient to cover the cost of a new laptop, as well as any other college expenses she may have." L glanced at Aiber, whose mouth gaped for a moment. "Did I not mention that I also set up a temporary account under our hastily invented company name?"

Aiber smiled again. "Nicely done. You might have made an impressive con man yourself."

"Hm." L pursed his lips. "There may be some who believe that is all I ever have been." Not acknowledging Aiber's raised eyebrow, scuffed sneakers dragging on concrete, L sighed and then spoke quietly. "It was me, wasn't it."

"What do you mean?"

"The girl, Kyoko. She was reacting to me." L's voice was soft.

"Yeah, definitely. For awhile there, I thought you hadn't noticed."

"I hadn't. I only just put it together. Such a strange feeling." L looked sidelong at Aiber as they walked. "When did you know?"

"Before you sat down." Aiber replied without hesitating, glancing at L. "She was watching you. I thought she might have been trouble for us until she blushed as you walked past her. That's when I knew. I could see her reflection in the window, so I could keep an eye on her without raising her suspicions. Some of her expressions were –"

"So that is how you were able to manipulate her into joining us."

"Well, yeah. Her interest in you made it easy."

"Hm. And it made her vulnerable. Perhaps this will teach her to be less trusting." L ignored Aiber's uneasy expression. "I must make it a point to be more observant in the future. I suppose I could increase my caffeine intake."

Aiber's laugh drew a look from a passing couple. "_More_ caffeine – great idea!"

"And what would you suggest?" L asked drily.

"It wouldn't kill you to take a nap once in awhile."

"Actually it could."

As Aiber shook his head again, L kept his thoughts to himself. _I cannot afford these distractions_, he thought; _my reasons for being here have not changed_. Aiber would no doubt disapprove of his making a deal with a shinigami – not that he actually knew they existed, having never touched the Death Note – and that it might be more difficult to work with him if he knew. Now that L had done all he could to ensure that Watari would be able to free or at least clear Wedy, his primary goal was to reacquire Misa.

A trilling noise interrupted his thoughts and he looked over to see Aiber pull out his cellphone.

"Professor Argent speaking." Aiber stopped walking, and L stopped as well, watching his face. "Yes it is. Ha! Oh yes, everything should be in order, doctor." He nodded at L. "You need my assistance? I was just walking with a former student of mine . . . I see. Of course, we'll be right there." Aiber clapped the phone shut. "That was –"

"I won't be accompanying you." L spoke plainly.

Aiber seemed taken aback. "The 'doctor' seemed to be expecting you."

"I know. Unfortunately, I still need to get my package back."

"I'm sure we can pick that up after we assist the doctor." Aiber's eyes narrowed slightly, but the dismissiveness of his tone confirmed that both Wedy, as instructed, and Watari had kept the nature of the "package" from Aiber – he did not realize that it was a human being. L saw no reason to change this.

"I believe he has underestimated the potential danger of this package. The timing of its retrieval is critical."

"If it's that important, I can give you a hand."

"I am capable of doing it alone. The 'doctor' will need your help more." L extended a hand, which Aiber eventually shook. "We will see each other again soon."

As soon as Aiber began walking away, toward the hospital, L cut over to a path and followed it between two administrative buildings, heading further away from the main campus of To-Oh. Wherever Misa was, he knew it couldn't be far, considering where Watari's tracking monitor had shown her to be. _All I have to do now_, L thought, _is look for the floating carnie clown from hell_.

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Author's Note: Poor Kyoko! She's the penultimate L-fangirl, introduced as such by Ohba and Obata themselves right into the story! At least I let her have a conversation with him. ^_^ Though I conceived this meeting before reading the fic "K is for Kyoko" by limepickles, I wanted to give a shout-out to her, since hers is the only other fic I've read that features Kyoko in it (and if there are others, let me know!).

For those of you wondering about Light, the way I see it is when his plan to manipulate Rem didn't work right away, he started to panic a bit – not too much, since he's _Light_ and not Higuchi (oh how I loathe Higuchi) – and he's just been trying to get his plan, or some variation of it, to work. Then he fell and hit his head. Symptoms of mild brain trauma are pretty varied and can manifest in numerous ways. Wedy's hurt a good bit more than he is, but . . . he's definitely been affected. And injuries aside, he is seriously pissed off right now – hell, wouldn't you be? The thing about Light, though, is he's always got some kind of plan working, so don't count him out.

By the way, "anisocoria" is when a person's pupils are of unequal size. If someone exhibits that symptom after hitting their head, they are likely to have a more significant brain injury than a concussion – just in case it was unclear that L was misrepresenting Light's condition to Mogi.


	20. Discapitulation

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, meeting Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

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**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 20: Discapitulation

Empty Eye

"Damn it."

"I still don't understand why we're here."

It was cold in the warehouse now that the sun was down, and Matsuda's voice echoed as Soichiro paced. Their flashlights' beams crossed occasionally, shining into the corners as if they might find something to treasure there.

"Chief, you and Mogi already –"

"Matsuda!" Soichiro's shout seemed to shake the walls for a moment, and Matsuda recoiled. "There's no point going back to HQ until the lockdown lifts, and I can't just sit and wait. Namikawa hasn't returned any of my calls . . . I just thought it was worth looking around here, in case there was something we missed earlier." Soichiro exhaled and turned to face Matsuda, pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry for yelling. You've done nothing to deserve that."

"It's . . . it's OK, Chief. I understand." Matsuda understood being impatient to do something, but did not really understand why his boss was upset. He just wanted to be helpful. Soichiro had seemed surprised and angry when he'd been talking with Mogi on the phone, but he'd refused to tell Matsuda any details afterwards. Though his curiosity was killing him, Matsuda did his best to be patient. _He'll tell me what's going on when he's ready_, he thought, forcing himself to stay quiet, packing the questions down like too many clothes in a suitcase.

Soichiro continued to search the large, mostly empty building as Matsuda rubbed his hands together, flashlight nesting in the crook of his arm for a moment. He felt strange to still be wearing the doctor's scrubs from St. Luke's, but he hadn't had time to change – his ruined clothes from that morning were still sealed in a biohazard bag in the trunk of the Chief's car. He was at least grateful not to be wearing a patient's gown, and that most of the effects of the mace had worn off. The antihistamine that Terri had given him had helped, though he regretted the amount of time he'd lost while napping in the car as Soichiro drove.

Matsuda looked at the distant ceiling, his flashlight tracing circles, testing the extent of his vision now that he could open his eyes without them watering profusely. He'd hated not being able to see clearly, and it had surprised him to learn how much he really depended on his vision. The corrugated roof and the cross-beams would not have provided much interest even if they had been well-lit, but he focused on them anyway. _Ugh – what's the point of being able to see if there isn't anything TO see?_ Matsuda wondered. As Soichiro swept the beam of his flashlight up and down a far wall, Matsuda saw a tiny glimmer of light and brought his own flashlight to bear.

"Hey, Chief?"

"What is it, Matsuda?"

"Check this out." Matsuda pointed straight up.

Soichiro turned and aimed his flashlight at the center of the ceiling too, sweeping the crossbeams until the light crossed Matsuda's, resting on a dark glass ball suspended like a misplaced jewel or a nest of metal wasps. "I'll be damned."

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Looks like a camera to me, Matsuda. Good work."

"Thanks Chief! Wait, where are you going?"

"To find a ladder. If we take it down, we may be able to find something we missed – if the recorder is in this building, we can trace the wires to it and possibly access video of Aizawa and Ide's captors."

"Oh. But what if it's wireless? And what if it's not recording, just sending a signal live somewhere?"

"We'll find out when we open it. If it's sending live feed, it's possible we could determine where the signal is going once we take it apart – which means we'll have to watch what we say in the meantime." Soichiro's voice came behind some crates.

"Yeah, that makes sense. Although – oh wait, lip reading, I get it." Matsuda looked over at the crates Soichiro was rummaging behind, and his face brightened. "Hey, you know what? I bet I could climb up to that beam using these crates and then shimmy over to where the camera is on the crossbeam."

"Matsuda, that's too dangerous." Soichiro grumbled, still hidden.

"I dunno . . . I don't think it's any more dangerous than using a ladder to get up that high. I can do it, Chief!"

"Matsuda . . ." Soichiro emerged empty-handed with a grim expression.

"Don't worry – I won't fall, but even if I do, I know a good nurse who owes me a favor." Matsuda smiled.

Soichiro sighed. "Well, you shouldn't rush to increase Terri's workload just to see her again." He paused as Matsuda blushed. "But if you feel well enough to try and reach it that way, well, then go ahead."

"Will do, Chief!" Matsuda walked determinedly over to the crates.

". . . just be careful. And if you can't loosen it or open it, you'll have to come back down without it. Understood?" Soichiro glowered.

"Understood . . ." Matsuda began his climb, extending his arms to pull himself up onto the crates, giant building blocks reaching to the ceiling. _This'll be just like when I was a kid_, Matsuda thought, _when I climbed my grandmother's tree to get apples_.

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Inspection

"What else can you show me?"

"Well, this is the Trauma section of the Emergency Ward. As you can see, we have several patients tonight . . ."

"Who is this woman?"

"Accident victim. Came in with a head injury. She just got back from MRI." The doctor read from the chart, her eyes flitting rapidly.

"Hm, let me see that." Watari took the chart and read it himself. "Grade II MTBI." Wedy had been diagnosed with a concussion, and fortunately, the MRI showed no resulting hematoma. He walked over to stand next to Wedy, noticing a bandage hidden in her hair. Watari moved her head to one side to get a better look at the back of her head, noting the second bandage before looking at the chart again. "Her head injury seems inconsistent with a car accident."

"That's what Dr. Taishenko said too, but I suggested it was possible a projectile from the backseat could have impacted the back of her head at the point of crash."

"I suppose that's possible, yes, but it seems unlikely." Watari noted that Wedy's bag seemed to be missing. "Was such a projectile found?"

"Well, that's up to the police. They process the scene; we patch the meat."

Watari raised an eyebrow. "Meat?"

The doctor blanched, seeming to remember that this was an official inspection. "Sorry – it's just an expression, sir. I only meant –"

"I know what you meant. It's an appalling expression. Make sure you do not say such things around the patients, conscious or not." Watari kept his voice stern and dismissive as he surveyed the room, moving away from the bed.

"Absolutely. I understand. I can take you to the –"

"I want to compare this patient's chart with the information listed for her in the system."

"I'm not sure why you'd need to do that, doctor."

Watari turned to face her. "_Dr_. Ishikawa, I would like to see if this patient's information is consistent across the board as a part of my inspection of this hospital. Every aspect of this facility's operation is important, and while I do _not_ have the time to examine every patient's records, I must at least obtain _examples_ of how things are handled here. Now please take me to a terminal." He felt a flush of real anger touch his cheeks and wondered if he was playing his role too well.

"Of course – this way." Ishikawa seemed to be grinding her teeth.

As the doctor entered the patient ID number Wedy had been assigned when she'd arrived as a Jane Doe, Watari hoped that L had been successful. When the page loaded for them, he saw that he had.

"I might have known." Watari gestured imperiously at the screen. "The discrepancy in the patient's diagnosis was not the result of an errant projectile – it was the result of someone's incompetence!"

"What?" Ishikawa leaned forward to read the record more closely.

"As you can see, this woman was the victim of an attack, most likely a robbery, given her lack of ID."

"But – I spoke to the Head Nurse on this. She said the EMTs pulled this patient out of a car!"

"Clearly someone is mistaken. I'm sure the EMTs pulled _someone_ out of a car – someone who undoubtedly has the wrong information as well. If you're especially lucky, only two patients will have been mixed up in this manner."

"I'm calling the Head Nurse. She just got off duty, but if she can confirm what she saw, we can clear this up." Ishikawa was terse as she punched a number into her cellphone.

"Yes, that's a good place to start. I shall contact the hospital administrator."

The doctor's eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing.

"I need to see my sister! She's been hurt!" A shout came from the admitting area, followed by the patter of shoes slapping linoleum.

"What is the meaning of this?" Watari boomed, his hand retreating from the phone on the wall.

"I, that's – oh my God, that's her. My sister, Amelie. Amelie Argent." Aiber was panting as he caught Watari's eye.

Watari waved off the two hospital workers attempting to pull Aiber away. "Leave him. We need more accurate information concerning this patient anyway." Eyes flashing, he returned his gaze to Aiber. "I assume you have proof of identity?" As Aiber made a show of patting his pockets, Watari focused his attention on his peripheral view of Ishikawa, who was still attempting to contact the nurse. He knew they had to move quickly.

"I . . . I don't have any pictures of her on me – dammit . . ." Aiber mimicked discouragement well, Watari thought. "But here; this is my ID." Aiber handed Watari his wallet.

"Hmm . . . I see you have a PhD, Mr. Argent. What in?"

"Economics."

"How charming." Watari returned the wallet and faced the doctor. "Dr. Ishikawa, have you made contact with the Head Nurse yet?"

"She isn't answering. She probably turned her cell off when she left." The doctor seemed exasperated.

"That is unfortunate. Hopefully, she will return your call soon so that we can get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, please call Dr. Taishenko – I would like his input as well, since he examined this patient earlier."

"Doctor, please – I need to know what happened to my sister!" Aiber seemed ready to barrel past Watari to get to Wedy.

"Indeed, that is what we are attempting to ascertain now. The police will likely wish to ask you some things."

"Anything, as long as it helps Amelie." Aiber's eyes were actually tearing up. "Can you at least tell me her condition?"

Watari sighed. "She has a mild concussion. She lost consciousness when she was being transported here, apparently," Watari said, glaring at Ishikawa, "but she is now in stable condition. We should –"

"Dr. Ishikawa, you're needed in surgery, right now!" A breathless nurse skidded to a stop in front of her. "Please, we need you in 17B!"

The doctor looked like she might explode. "That's Taishenko's patient! Where the hell is he?"

"He got pulled to do an emergency C-section, and there have been . . . complications."

"Idiot." Ishikawa muttered under her breath. "Why wasn't I called for the C-section?"

"We were told not to interrupt you except as a last resort." The nurse's eyes flicked over to Watari.

Dr. Ishikawa rubbed her eyes with one hand and sighed. "Dr. Winchester, I'm sorry, but we will have to finish this inspection another time."

Watari huffed, concealing his satisfaction. "Yes, perhaps we'll reschedule for a time when this hospital is sufficiently staffed and able to handle its workload." The doctor seemed about to reply, so Watari hurriedly cut her off, waving his hand laterally. "No no, don't let me keep you when you have 'meat' to patch – I can see myself out."

Her face bright red, Ishikawa turned on her heel and followed the cowed-looking nurse as Watari jotted notes on his clipboard. Once they had gone through the double doors at the end of the hallway, Watari turned to Aiber.

"Ready for Phase 2?"

"Uh . . . is Phase 3 profit?"

Watari raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice. "We will profit by removing her sooner rather than later." He paused. "Where is he?"

"Not here." Aiber's face was blank. "He went for the package – said timing was important."

"Mm. Sadly, it always is." Watari frowned. "We'll have to adjust accordingly, I suppose." He straightened up and pointed toward the admissions area before speaking in a louder voice. "The bathrooms are back that way. I suggest you wait and ask the police for more information on your sister's case." Watari dropped his voice again, speaking quickly: "Go back to the staff room you passed. Once you've changed, exit to your left and go down a floor, then come back up the other elevator with a gurney."

Aiber nodded. "Thank you, doctor." He walked briskly down the hall as Watari approached Wedy's bedside and pulled the curtain closed around them.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Some Who Wander _Are_ Lost

"Do you even know where you're going?"

Her sandals made a clapping noise on the pavement as she walked, head down, dissonant applause for a dubious victory. She wasn't sure why she'd kept the blanket – it didn't go with her dress any more than the sandals did – but she was glad now to have something to keep the chill at bay.

"Hellooooo . . ." Ryuk was waving his arms. "You gonna ignore me all night?"

Misa kept walking. She was not sure where she was, and she found she didn't care anymore. Her limbs no longer tingled and her head seemed clear enough, but somehow she still felt numb. She wondered if Light missed her, or if he'd even noticed she hadn't called. Her hand reached reflexively for her purse, though she knew it wasn't there. No money. No cellphone. No Death Note. _Just a useless shinigami_, Misa thought; _and that smelly bag I threw out didn't even have anything but junk in it_. She wondered idly if she'd die alone, out on the streets, still wandering, forgotten, an urban sylph.

Approaching sirens caught her attention, and she slipped into the next alleyway to hide behind a garbage bin. Misa watched as two police cars and an ambulance went by, their bright lights sending a cacophony of color down the throat of the alley before leaving her in darkness again. She felt herself squash a tiny mote of hope, deciding that seeing a name on an ambulance didn't mean she really knew where she was. Misa stood, still clutching the blanket around her shoulders, and turned to exit the alley in the other direction.

A neon light flashing blue illuminated the cross-street as she approached the corner of the building. Not bothering to look up to read it, Misa stepped onto the sidewalk – and promptly collided with someone. Misa gasped.

They stared at each other, frozen in place. The cellphone hung forgotten from his thumb and forefinger. A group of college students were talking and laughing outside a café down the street, and another group was walking toward them. Misa's eyes shifted from just above L's head to his cellphone, and then she lunged, grabbing for it as Ryuk cackled above them.

He had no time. L tossed his cellphone over Misa's head into the alley, hearing it clatter. Misa ran for it, and L spun her, grabbing her wrists and pinning her to the alley wall, blue light strobing over their faces. As she struggled to free her arms from the blanket that was now wrapped around them behind her back, Misa took a deep breath. L knew they'd already drawn too much attention, and he could not afford more if Misa screamed. His hands already engaged, he did what he had to do and covered her mouth with his own.

Misa's eyes went wide and she writhed, attempting to pull away, her keening voice muffled. L was very careful to hold his tongue as far from her as possible and to keep his knees between hers, hopeful that he might retain the use of as many of his appendages as possible.

He had never expected to be in this kind of situation with Misa and found it annoying that he could not communicate with her. The bodily contact was distracting enough, but L did not know how he could convince her not to kill him if he could not even speak to her. _At least Ryuk seems to be enjoying himself_, L thought, noting the shinigami rolling on the sidewalk, nearly apoplectic with amusement.

The group of students that had been walking toward them passed by, some of them snickering, one absently fingering his Blackberry. As their shuffling footsteps and murmurs faded away, some of the energy seemed to go out of Misa and she stopped squirming. Her eyes welled up and overflowed as she rested her head against the concrete wall. _Is she trying to trick me so that she can scream?_ L wondered. He decided to take a chance and pulled his lips apart from hers.

"Don't kill me."

"Wh-what?"

"Please don't kill me. I am trying to help you."

"Help? Don't you mean rape?" Some of Misa's fire shone out through her misty eyes.

L's brow furrowed. "I would not rape you. I only have two hands and you were about to scream, so I had to –"

"I _should_ scream _now!_"

"I'd prefer it if you listened for a moment. I know that you were about to kill me because you saw my true name and tried to take my phone to call Light and tell him." L was almost completely certain that Misa had the shinigami eyes again, nearly 91%, because she had done the same thing the first time they had met: looked just above his head as though something was floating there. _Getting Misa in a position to see my name would make perfect sense as a part of any plan Light would have_, L thought, _and I just walked into a trap he couldn't possibly have set for me_.

"What? Are you still going on about that? I'm _not_ the second Kira!" Misa leaned back against the wall again, looking straight up into the night. "Ugh, I don't even know why I bother. You're always going to suspect me – even those stupid wannabe-L kidnappers did . . ."

"Wannabe . . . ?" L's eyes flicked to the street, making sure they were not being overheard.

"Yeah, they pretended to be you, but I knew it wasn't. Dummies."

L's expression was grim. The information he'd accessed on the car Wedy had taken indicated that it belonged to Ooi, which, together with Watari's observation of Takahashi taking Misa from her apartment, confirmed the involvement of the Yotsuba Six. _An incredibly stupid and rash move on their parts_, L thought; _particularly if they went the extra step of pretending to be me_. "Hm . . . what did they ask you, by the way?"

Misa's eyes locked with his, anger flaring again. "Why don't _you_ ask them?"

L sighed. "I can't at the moment, and you incapacitated the person I sent to retrieve you, so –"

"Wait – _you_ sent her?"

L wondered how much of Misa's behavior was an act and whether she could even tell the difference anymore. "Yes. I sent her to free you. And you repaid her by giving her a concussion."

Misa blinked tears from her eyes. "You . . . tried to save me? And now you're here in person . . ."

_Not even the slightest acknowledgment that she did anything wrong by injuring Wedy_, L thought with some ire. "Yes, I am here . . ."

"You came to rescue me!" Though restrained, Misa did a little hop, and L made sure his grip on her was still sound.

"Well, I did say I was trying to help . . ."

"Oh, Ryuzaki!" Misa leaned forward and kissed L quickly on the mouth.

L's eyes widened slightly more than usual and he held still, watching as she smiled up at him, eyes bright. _This cannot possibly be heartfelt_, he thought; _it's too hackneyed and obvious_. He kept his gaze steady, calculating his next move as her face fell into a pout.

"Don't you like kissing either?" Misa said in a small voice.

"Hm? Oh, I like it well enough. I just have other things on my mind."

"I _told_ you, I'm not the –"

"It is not a suspicion. I _know_. Isn't that right, Ryuk?"

"Ha! I was wondering when you'd get around to saying hi. You know, she hasn't been talking to me for hours – I was _so_ bored! But I gotta say, the payoff watching you two was pretty sweet." Ryuk grinned, hovering very close to them.

"How . . . how long?" Misa's voice was a ghost, her eyes nearly as wide as L's. "How long have you known about Ryuk?"

"Long enough." L didn't blink. He hadn't wanted to play this particular card so soon, but he could not see Misa forgoing her pointless denials otherwise.

"You found the notebook . . ." Misa's head drooped, and she looked sideways into the darkness of the alleyway.

"Some of it." L felt Misa jump, but she continued to face away from him. "You've been using pages from it."

"But . . . if that's what you think, if that's what you say you know . . . then why would you want to save me?" Misa's eyes slid sideways to meet L's.

_Good question_, L thought. "Because you've been used. And I want to catch the person who has been using you."

Misa clenched her jaw, eyes flashing again. "No one's using me. I did this all on my own."

"If you want to help Light, you must help me get him to confess."

"He's not involved, so there's nothing to confess."

Unable to help himself, L rolled his eyes. "I know about him too, so it's pointless to deny it."

"If you had proof, you wouldn't need his confession!" Misa spat.

"Oh, I don't _need_ his confession. But if he were to confess, he would get a lighter sentence." L stared into her eyes. "That's what I meant when I said you could help Light."

Misa was shaking. "I don't believe you."

"Believe what you like. It's the truth." L's and Misa's gaze remained unbroken even as Ryuk stared at them both, his caricatured face inches from their own.

"No." Misa dropped her eyes, leaning forward to rest her forehead on L's chest. Her voice was choked. "I won't betray him," she whispered softly as though L couldn't hear her.

L wondered what exactly constituted betrayal in her mind, but opted not to ask. He exhaled slowly over her mussed blonde hair. "If this is too much for you to bear, you could show me where the rest of the notebook is and then relinquish your memories," he said in a low voice.

"Ugh, again?" Misa said before catching herself, startled eyes fluttering up to meet L's as she pulled her head away from him. "Dammit! Misa can't do anything right." Tears formed once more, reflecting neon, and she turned toward Ryuk, who was cackling anew.

"Shut up! Shut up, you _stupid_ shinigami! If you'd just helped me a little, I wouldn't be in this mess!"

"Exactly – and I'd be watching you paint your toenails, or try on clothes, or shop for shoes, or pose for pictures, or any of the other boring stuff you do. I don't think this could have turned out better if I'd planned it." Ryuk was hovering above them now, face poised just above their heads.

"I _hate_ you!"

"Misa, please stop yelling." L's face loomed closer to hers.

Misa gave in completely to weeping, head falling forward again, tears soaking the front of L's shirt as L and Ryuk looked down at her.

"Misa . . ." L hesitated, wondering how far she could be pushed, and if there was some way he could persuade her.

"Fine." Misa's voice was tiny. She raised her head, eyes averted toward the street, still not reading the neon sign that flashed over them. "Ryuk, I give up ownership of my Death Note."

"You – really?" Ryuk seemed genuinely surprised.

"Yes." Misa lowered her head again.

"Well, OK . . ."

L jumped. "Wait –"

"Heh heh, too late, buddy." Ryuk started to fly straight up as Misa shuddered silently against L's chest.

"Ryuk, it seems you have an extra Death Note now." L called up to him.

The shinigami paused in mid-air, circling once and staring downward with his signature grin. "Yeah, I guess I do. You want it? Go find it!" Ryuk's harsh laughter trailed after him like smoke as he shot into the air.

L's eyes lanced upward, face hot, and for a long moment, he watched as Ryuk's figure grew smaller and disappeared from sight, dim stars twinkling in counterpoint. _Motherfucker,_ L thought, teeth grinding together as he swallowed, his eyes falling to the side to read the flashing blue sign: 'Fortunes Told! Destiny Revealed!' Making an effort to slow his breathing, L looked back up into the empty sky, ignoring the warm weight on his chest, focusing on the caress of the cool night air and sound of distant traffic.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Disconnection/Reconnection

His stomach was a clenched fist, and he decided not to try and force any more food into it. The conversation with Soichiro replayed in his head. Mogi almost wished the Chief had yelled at him instead of gritting out a few terse sentences. It had been difficult, but Mogi had only given him very basic information about the situation at HQ. He had told him that the building was in emergency lockdown mode, but not why, and that his son was being detained after having stolen something, but not what. Mogi also didn't mention the manner in which Light was incarcerated, or that he might be injured, or that Mogi had heard the shinigami basically confirm that Light was Kira and Misa was the second Kira.

He did mention that the research they'd collected on the Kira case had been lost as a consequence of the lockdown, but that he was doing his best to recompile everything from hard copies. Mogi hated withholding information from Soichiro. He'd promised to be his eyes when he'd left last night, but what he'd seen and heard since then had left him with an impression he could not openly share with the man. _How can I tell him 'I think your son's a murderer too'?_ Mogi wondered; _I can't imagine how he must already feel_. He hoped in time Soichiro would be able to forgive him.

"I know you're watching, Ryuzaki!"

_Not again_, Mogi thought. Every once in awhile, Light would seem to rouse from his thoughts to shout an accusation at L. Mogi had not responded, though Watari had told him he could use the vocal modulator if needed. He doubted his ability to fool Light into thinking he was L or Watari, and he did not want to converse with Light himself. He thought it was wiser to wait.

"Is this what you wanted? Is it?" Light's shout faded as he filled the sparse room with his humorless laughter. "You've made a bigger mistake than you know . . ."

Mogi thought that Light was sounding less and less rational and wasn't sure if it was the result of a possible head injury or if Light was just reacting to his detention. It was a kind of torture just watching him, and to a certain extent, Mogi felt that it was a punishment he deserved to bear – for misleading Soichiro at least, however unintentionally. Mogi would endure. _I'll face the consequences when they come due_, Mogi thought with a bleak expression.

Unaware that he was even slouching, Mogi sank deeper into his chair. Light became quiet again, breathing heavily, mouth twisted into a parody of a smile. As the expression began to fade from Light's face, Mogi wondered which of them would fall asleep first.

Trilling jolted Mogi, and he scrambled to grab his cell from the desk in front of him. "Yes?"

Sitting up straight now, Mogi nodded, averting his eyes from the monitors showing Light. "No, not yet, but it should be soon." He paused, jaw muscles working. "They're not back yet, not that . . ." Mogi swallowed. "No, like I said, they wouldn't tell me. Soon, I hope. We've got a lot of work to do."

He reached forward to turn the sound down in case Light started to rant again, not wanting his voice to be audible over the connection, but still needing to watch. "Wait – what?" Mogi listened, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "That's – yeah, that's great. Hopefully we can pull something from it –"

A faint chuckling came from the speakers, too low to transmit over the cellphone, but Mogi moved further away from the desk anyway. "Yeah, I'll give you a call when it's lifted." Mogi's beleaguered stomach grumbled. "You guys should probably grab dinner if you haven't already – once you get back here, it's going to be busy. Yeah. I understand. Will do."

Mogi shut his phone with a snap, staring at it for a moment. He hadn't expected to hear from the Chief again so soon and was surprised he hadn't asked about his son. Soichiro had sounded calmer, though not happy. _Maybe he doesn't want to know_, Mogi thought; _or maybe he just wants to see for himself_.

Knowing that Soichiro and Matsuda had found a camera at the warehouse cheered Mogi somewhat. He'd had plenty else to occupy his mind all day, but he hadn't lost hope that they might track down Aizawa and Ide, even if they were supposedly working with allies. Mogi was surprised that Matsuda hadn't gotten on the phone too – he could imagine him bursting with enthusiasm to break the news.

A phone rang, and Mogi saw that it was coming in through Watari's "public" line – 'Unknown Caller,' the read-out said. Sighing, Mogi pressed the voice modulator to answer it. "Hello?"

Mogi's eyes bulged, everything else suddenly forgotten. "Yes. Yes, I am. No. I can't say. I can fill you in on that if we can –" Mogi paused, listening carefully. "What else can you tell me? Uh huh. I . . . understand. When will – oh. I see. Be careful, then." He pulled the phone from his ear once the call had ended, his heart beating just a little faster. Mogi knew this much for certain now: Aizawa was alive. Any new evidence he might have was just gravy.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Twenty chapters in and still more to go! O_O I swear, I started this and thought it would be five, tops. Now, it's looking like it'll be more than 25 – hope you can hang in there! I will try to maintain my update speed, but as my typing/editing catches up to my handwriting things out, well, it may drop off a bit, though my goal is still to have at least one update a week. We'll see. ;-) Watari sure seems to enjoy being an imperious asshole, doesn't he, heh heh. I guess it's a nice change from being kindly and deferential . . . when he's not, you know, torturing someone . . .

For the record, Ryuk's decision was NOT part of my plan when I was writing this. Oh, I figured he'd yank people's chains where he could, and might help L get the other Death Note, but when I got to the part where Misa gives up ownership, I realized that's not what he would do. He's been attached to Misa – apple addiction or no, that'd be torture for anyone – and he's a contrary mofo and a trickster at heart. I was almost as pissed off as L when Ryuk left, and I was writing it! Such is the problem with characters: you have to follow them, even at the risk of your own plotlines, because if you lose sight of who they are, the heart of the story unravels. Sigh. Damn ye, Ryuk.

Quick shout-out and thank you to Lichan44 for sending me a whole list of Russian epithets/expletives. I ended up not using one, since I couldn't decide which fit best, plus I suppose it's bordering on OOC to have L cuss out loud anyway, hence his thinking "Motherfucker" instead of uttering it. And who knows, the epithets may come in handy later. Thanks again!


	21. Touch & Go

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, meeting Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 21: Touch & Go

Feather of Supplication

"Sir, I've told you all I know."

"Bullshit! I was assaulted and my car was stolen – I know what happened, I was there! I gave my statement to the first cop I talked to. Now I get here, and you're telling me I'm under suspicion? For what – attacking someone's foot with my face?" Though his tinted glasses blocked some of the bruising, it was clear that the bald man had suffered some injuries.

Officer Niwa suppressed a sigh. No one was ever really happy to be in a police station, but being yelled at or cried on by a constant stream of people could be exhausting. He couldn't wait to get back off the desk and back on the street. "Sir, I know what your statement says. I just need you to wait in here so that the detective working your case can go over some of the details with you."

"What details? Why is that necessary?" The bald man's voice boomed.

"Well, he'll probably show you photos of your car's interior and ask you to identify which items are yours and what, if anything, is missing, for starters."

The bald man cracked his knuckles. "Because they're trying to put the evidence in context?"

"Yes, sir."

"I get that." He was shaking his head, the fluorescent lights making it shine. "But why do I have to wait in this room?"

"We've got a pretty heavy caseload right now, and it's standard procedure to separate witnesses and victims from the riffraff so that people don't overhear each other's cases." Niwa looked at the man, who still seemed unwilling to sit down. "Look on the bright side; you should have some peace and quiet in here."

"Yeah, a nice, peaceful interrogation room."

"Sir –"

"Enough with the 'sir' crap. As you probably can tell, my day has been less than ideal." He glowered over his glasses with eyes like a shark. "I'll wait here for the detective, as long as it results in catching the asshole who stole and crashed my car."

Niwa nodded and moved back toward the door, relieved that the bald man was proceeding to sit down at last. Though the man was older, he was tall and imposing. If he had chosen to try and leave or fight . . .

"Officer?"

"Yes, s – uh, Mr. Ooi?"

"Get me a cup of coffee, would you?"

Niwa turned to hide his grimace. "Yeah, no problem." He left the room, heading for the coffeepot.

_This guy's day's not gonna get any better when we tell him he's being charged with assault and attempted rape_, Niwa thought. The record in the system was clear as day – the woman's statement indicated that she had taken Ooi's car to get away from him after he had attacked her, and there was plenty of evidence listed and eyewitness statements backing this up. The bald man was likely not going anywhere anytime soon.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Hidden Prize

The thup-thup-thup of the rotating blades was so loud it was more feeling than sound. They were flying low – Aiber supposed that Watari's intention was to make sure enough buildings were between them and To-Oh University Hospital to mask their escape before reaching a more appropriate – and less dangerous – flying altitude. Not that anyone had followed them onto the roof. Installing a program to wipe all security footage from the hospital for the past few hours had seemed ridiculously easy, though it made sense that Watari would have such a program ready to load. Aiber had been surprised at how smoothly their departure had gone, but wondered what Watari planned next.

As they had been loading Wedy in, Watari had remotely triggered a self-destruct on the device Wedy had used to track Aiber and had then tried contacting L's cellphone, but 'out of service range' had been the message Watari had told him he'd gotten, worry flickering in his eyes for a moment. Aiber knew damn well that L was never out of range – whether they used several service companies or somehow had their own, L and Watari were always able to find him no matter where they were _Or what they were interrupting_, Aiber thought, remembering the last time he'd been with his wife. Which meant that either L had turned his phone off, or it had been broken. It had been Watari's decision to proceed without him, since they couldn't afford to wait around with a stolen hospital patient. Aiber wasn't sure it was the right way to go, but Watari had told him that L was resourceful enough to handle a package retrieval on his own, so he followed his lead.

The helicopter listed to the left as Watari made a turn, and Aiber looked behind him to where Wedy was strapped in. They'd found a u-shaped pillow to help keep her head propped up, and her ear was pressed to one side of it, her face paler and more slack than he'd ever seen it. Even seeing her without sunglasses on was strange enough. _She looks too young_, he thought. He hoped she would recover quickly under whatever care Watari intended to provide for her.

As he was turning to face forward, Aiber noticed a panel next to Wedy that had fallen open during the twists and turns of their flight. Unsure if it would come loose entirely, possibly hitting one of them, Aiber stretched to reach behind them and put it back in place. The helicopter tipped up and began an ascent, and Aiber suddenly found his hand inside the open panel as gravity pulled him toward the back of the craft. Curious at what he felt there, he grasped and extracted the object.

_Death Note_ . . . Aiber read silently, eyes widening; _what the hell?_ His eyes darted around the interior of the helicopter, but nothing else seemed out of place. He thought back to when Higuchi had been captured – Aiber had been in the car with Mogi, in pursuit until Higuchi had been cornered on the highway. Though he'd been told to stay in the car, he'd overheard the entire conversation via the comm-link when Mogi and Soichiro had approached Higuchi and retrieved the "notebook that kills."

_Could this be it?_ Aiber thought, turning it in his hand. He hadn't touched the supposed weapon that day or even seen it close up, but from a distance . . . His memory told him that this could be the same notebook. He had asked L later that day if he and Wedy would be allowed to touch it and see the "monster" Soichiro had described, but L had said no. "There may be negative consequences to touching the notebook of which I am unaware, and I would prefer not to endanger the entirety of my team," L had said. Aiber had taken that as the brush-off that it probably was, but he wondered now what those consequences could be. He certainly saw no monster here.

_Maybe it's a decoy_, he thought, though he wasn't sure why the notebook, real or not, would be stored in a compartment on the helicopter. _They wouldn't have just forgotten it here for all this time_, Aiber thought; _maybe they brought it with them today for some reason_. The helicopter listed to the left again and the notebook in Aiber's hands rapped gently against Wedy's knuckles. _Merde_. Aiber frowned. Noticing the corner of a post-it poking from its pages, Aiber opened the notebook and read it: "Brulez ce cahier le 22 Novembre." Wondering a bit at the date, he pushed the notebook back into the compartment and closed the panel firmly over it with a click. With once last glance at Wedy, he turned around in his seat.

"Everything alright?" Watari shouted to be heard, keeping his eyes focused on where they were going.

"Yeah." Aiber shouted back. He knew there was no point in trying to have a normal conversation over the noise. "She's still out." He popped a thumb in Wedy's direction as Watari nodded in response.

Aiber looked out at the bright lights of the cityscape piercing the night sky and realized that they were headed in a different direction than he'd expected. "Where are we going?"

"We are proceeding to a military base – someone there owes me a favor."

Nodding, Aiber decided he didn't much like the sound of that but reasoned that he'd be able to play along. His interactions with the military in several countries had been mixed at best. As long as no one there recognized him, he knew he'd be fine. "What about . . ." Aiber gestured vaguely, unsure of whether to say an alias, or which one.

"He'll be fine, I'm certain." Watari's eyes dashed to meet Aiber's before returning to task. "If I haven't heard from him by the time we touch down, I will try to contact him again."

Aiber averted his eyes. He didn't doubt L's skills, or that he might have his own plans, but something had seemed off when they'd parted ways. _Is some kind of power struggle happening between L and Watari?_ Aiber wondered. What kind of package is so important that L had to handle it alone? Aiber considered the possibility that it related somehow to the notebook being in the helicopter. He didn't have quite enough to go on, but Aiber knew he'd be keeping these things in mind in case any new information fell into his hands.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Sociability

"Woozy . . ."

"Just a little further."

"Mmm . . . can we go get ice cream?"

"I . . . actually, there will be ice cream where we are going. You may have any flavor you like." With his arm around Misa, who was moving unsteadily, L guided her along the sidewalk toward where he hoped he could flag down a cab. He'd managed to retrieve his cellphone from the alley, but it was no longer working. _At least I can be reasonably sure that Watari knows where we are_, L thought. The knowledge that Watari could track them wasn't enough to persuade L to simply wait for assistance, however – he was determined to keep moving.

"I wanna sit down." Misa pouted.

"Misa, we're almost to the corner. You will be able to sit down soon."

"Nuh-uh. I wanna sit down _now_." Misa slipped from his grip to plunk down on the sidewalk, legs crossed under her, blanket still enshrouding her.

"Misa . . ." L stared down at her, regulating his breathing. He knew he could carry her if necessary but wanted to avoid additional attention if possible.

"Duuuuude – I guess she had a little too much, huh?"

L turned to behold three college students, two of whom, he noted, had been at the café he'd seen just prior to literally running into Misa. The two boys were smirking, but the girl regarded him with suspicion. L sighed. "Yes. I'm trying to get her home, but I don't have a car."

"Hey, aren't you that rich guy from the freshman address?" the shorter boy asked. "Can't you just call up your limo driver or whatever?"

"Even if my phone was working . . . the less I have to explain to my parents, the better." L dropped his eyes to regard Misa, who was remaining uncharacteristically quiet.

"Ha – I totally get that, man." The taller of the two boys slapped L on the back, and L squashed the urge to kick him. "You know, we were about to head downtown and hit a club – if her place is on the way . . ."

"Aku! It's my brother's car – I can't drive all over town! I'm lucky he's even letting me borrow it." The shorter boy glared, round cheeks turning red under a stormy brow.

"It's alright. I just need to find a cab." L met the shorter boy's eyes. "Thanks just the same." L watched as the boy dropped his eyes and stepped back and wondered if this was even an opportunity worth using. As much as he and Misa needed a ride, L much preferred the relative anonymity of a taxicab.

"How do we know you're not going to hurt her?" The girl finally spoke up, eyes narrowed.

"Why would I do that?" L regarded her coolly.

"I don't know – _you_ got her drunk. You tell me."

"That is most definitely not what happened."

"That's what you say. What does _she_ say?" The girl looked pointedly at Misa, who was facing away from them, her profile to L.

L turned to Misa as well, keeping his face blank but evaluating possible escape routes and scenarios. It was difficult to tell how Misa would react. She had seemed a bit out of it after losing her memories again – although, as L thought back, her behavior in the alleyway prior to that had been unusual as well. L wondered if there were any drugs still lingering in her system.

"Ryuga?" Misa's voice was faint.

"Yes, M – Ms. Amane?"

Misa looked up to meet L's eyes. "I'm ready to go home now. Will you take me?"

"Yes, of course. We just need to catch a cab." L gave what he hoped was a benign smile. Realizing Misa was reaching up, L extended his hand to pull her back to her feet.

"You didn't answer, Amane. What happened?" Though the girl was likely trying to help Misa, her voice and demeanor were harsh.

"Too many questions today." Misa frowned for a moment, pulling the blanket tighter around her before turning to face the girl. "Ryuga _saved_ me, that's what happened." To L's surprise, Misa embraced him, snuggling into his arm as he had seen her do to Light on numerous occasions.

"See? You worry too much, Haru." The tall boy squeezed the girl, who rolled her eyes as the other boy looked on. "C'mon Dai, we can't just abandon them. Hey," he said, turning to L, "where does she live? It's no problem, unless it's, like, in the opposite direction or something." He ignored the sigh of his friend.

"I can show you, if you have GPS on your phone. Mine did, but it's broken now, unfortunately."

"Yeah, sure." The tall boy extracted his own cellphone. "Oh, we should probably . . ." He gestured vaguely. "I'm Akuma Iwai, this is my girlfriend Haruna Mori, and this is our bud Daisuke Sakamoto."

L nodded his head. "I am Hideki Ryuga, and this is Misa Amane."

"Good to meet you guys. OK, I've got it showing where we are now . . ." Iwai stepped next to L and handed him his cellphone. "Just put in where you need to go so we can see if it's on our way."

L had no intention of leading these students to his own secure building, but there was no reason he couldn't use the neighboring building with the penthouse he'd used briefly as a destination. He continued to run contingency plans through his head as he entered the information, keeping his expression as placid as ever. Traveling with Misa was a little bit like having a bomb strapped to his chest, one that could go off at random, and he needed to remain alert in the event things went further out of control.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Overdue Investigation

"It's still not conclusive."

"Yeah, but it's pretty suspicious."

"No one could convict on this without physical evidence!" Ide glared at Aizawa.

"We scoured that whole plaza – fountain, trees, trashcans and all, and the sidewalks leading to it. Any physical evidence that may have been there is long gone now." Aizawa frowned.

"It was a worthy effort, just the same." Rester finally spoke up. "If the range of the security cameras at the entrance of the NPA had been a little longer, we might have gotten a better idea of where she went afterwards."

Aizawa looked at the file in front of him. "You didn't get her parents' hopes up, did you? That would be cruel . . ."

"I think they just want closure. Her mother still holds out hope, but . . . I think she's ready to accept that her daughter's gone." Rester ran a hand over his buzzcut. "We're lucky the NPA still had those recordings. I just wish they'd been facing the cameras when they were still in the lobby."

"Well, we already know some of what was said just based on what those guys told us." Aizawa pointed out, remembering NPA officers Kenta Nakahara and Naoto Tomonaga. "Since they were both working reception that day, what they heard between the two of them was enough to raise my suspicions."

"But it still doesn't _prove_ anything." Ide seemed agitated. "This is all guesswork based on circumstantial evidence!"

"Look, I'm not saying this isn't important – I'd like to stop Kira as much as you two – but none of this tells me where Misora went." Rester sighed. "That's my primary objective. Finding her."

Aizawa crossed his arms. _What would L conclude from all this?_ he wondered. He thought back to the image of Naomi Misora walking past the entrance of the NPA, Light no longer with her, less than 5 minutes after Aizawa himself had entered the building. Aizawa knew he must have walked right past her – walked past _both_ of them – but he couldn't remember seeing them. It had been the morning of New Year's Day, and he'd just come from meeting L for the first time. It seemed so long ago now. But fresh in his mind from the video was Misora's face in profile as she walked by, snow falling on her . . .

"She wasn't even trying to cover her head."

"What?" Ide looked at Aizawa.

"The weather – it was snowing when she walked by that last time. She didn't seem to care. Most women try to keep their hair dry in wet weather, or at least stay warm. But she didn't – she just stared straight ahead. Her steps didn't vary; there was no emotion on her face. It was like . . . she'd already decided what to do and was going to do it."

"If this is your way of trying to convince me that she committed suicide, I'd remind you of the evidence I have showing that she wasn't likely to do that." Rester glowered at Aizawa. "I understand why you would expect that of someone experiencing grief, but based on all the interviews I've done with her friends, co-workers, and family, it doesn't fit her personality. You've got to stop going back to the same theory."

Aizawa rubbed his forehead, wishing it would erase the echo from his mind. "I . . . couldn't tell you this before, and I probably shouldn't be telling you this now, but . . . Kira can control victims before they die. And Kira can kill in ways other than a heart attack."

"How do you know that?" Rester stared, unwavering, at Aizawa, who stared right back.

"I can't say. But I can tell you I have solid evidence on that." Aizawa noticed that Rester's sidemen, John and Tetsuo, didn't seem to be paying any attention to them at all. Not for the first time, Aizawa wondered if that was truly the case.

"Why the hell didn't you tell us that before?" Ide glared at Aizawa, not seeming to notice Rester's raised eyebrows.

"Ide, I know you knew about Kira controlling victims' actions – I told you that myself, months ago." Aizawa remembered that first long conversation he'd had with Ide upon his return to the NPA. Just knowing that there were still some on the force who wanted to catch Kira had meant everything to him, and he'd told Ide as much about the case as he could. He wondered now what Ide could be thinking, drawing attention to the differences in what they knew.

"Yeah, OK, I remember that now." Ide was flushed. "But the 'other kinds of death' thing is a pretty big detail. If we'd known that sooner –"

"It wouldn't have made a difference." Aizawa cut Ide off, earning another glare from his companion. "I only mentioned it now because I think it's relevant to Misora's behavior."

Rester was frowning now. "Are you saying that Kira could have made Misora kill herself?"

"Yeah, that's a possibility," Aizawa nodded, "but it's also possible that Kira just had her go somewhere secluded to have a heart attack or die in an accident. I mean, she might have been acting of her own volition when she walked by that last time, but . . . something's off there. She was so hot to tell the Task Force something important about the Kira case that she wouldn't even leave a message at the desk – not even her name – but then she has a long chat with the Chief's son, and awhile later she just . . . walks off? And that's the last anyone sees of her?" Aizawa glanced at Ide before meeting Rester's eyes. "Circumstantial or not, it's still pretty compelling."

"Agreed. I need closure on what happened to Misora." Rester was firm. "It's impossible to tell what she was thinking or whether she was controlled by anyone or anything that day. We know what direction she was going – we just need to extrapolate where she might have gone from there, narrow it down a little."

"What if we assume she went somewhere on foot?" Aizawa rubbed his chin. "I mean, we can't really rule out transportation, but if we proceed from the assumption that she was controlled to find the quickest way to die . . ."

"Right, let's look at the map again." Rester tapped a few keys on his laptop. "Should we stick to a one-mile radius from the last point she was seen?"

"Make it two miles; that should be a good span to start with, although we're really looking at more of a fan than a circular area since we know she didn't double back – not on camera, anyway." Aizawa leaned forward to get a better look at the screen. "We can expand the search area later if we don't find any likely locations."

"Even if we find a 'likely location,' how do we know we'll find anything there?" Ide seemed sullen.

"What do you mean?" Aizawa spoke before Rester could.

"What I mean is . . . if Kira can make people die any way he wants, how do we know he didn't just make her disintegrate or something?"

Aizawa blinked. "Ide . . . if Kira could do that, why wouldn't he have done that for any deaths he didn't want discovered?"

"What makes you think he didn't?"

Aizawa shook his head. "There just hasn't been the same rise in disappearances as there has been in heart attacks. Also, anyone can have a heart attack, but . . . people don't just disintegrate into thin air. That's pretty out there."

"Yeah, well, being able to kill with just a face and a name is pretty out there too." Ide looked out the window.

"Let's try and focus on more . . . plausible scenarios that fit Kira's MO for now." Rester said, eyes shifting between the two police officers. "If we have to investigate a more 'out there' explanation for Misora's disappearance, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"That makes sense." Aizawa nodded, but Ide remained silent.

"You know . . ." Rester seemed to look into the distance, as though they were outside rather than in a small hotel room crowded with empty food containers. "If her actions _were_ being controlled by Kira, he wouldn't have to make her disintegrate in order to make her disappear." He met Aizawa's eyes. "Would you say it was possible Kira could have made her take precautions not to be found? Actually do something to that end, instead of just having her go somewhere secluded?"

"That's . . . yeah, I'd say that's possible." Though there had been several times Aizawa had wished for L's insight since starting to work with Rester, he was actually enjoying working with investigators on his level and drawing his own conclusions – he felt more like a cop again, instead of an errand boy.

"OK. Then let's focus initially on places where it would be easy to dispose of a body. Once we –"

"How the hell does a dead woman dispose of her own body?" Ide sneered. "That doesn't sound too 'plausible' to me."

Aizawa sighed, wondering why Ide was being more argumentative than usual, but Rester spoke up first. "If she took a header into an acid bath, for example, there wouldn't be much for us to find. The way she was killed or killed herself would have to result in little to no evidence being left behind."

"Like . . . suicide by disintegration?" Ide raised an eyebrow.

"Well, as long as there's a realistic cause." Rester nodded once.

"So, we're looking for any chemicals that might speed decomposition or induce . . . disintegration," Aizawa looked disparagingly at Ide, "or any kind of machinery that could reduce a body to pulp . . ."

"Or fire." Ide interjected.

"Yeah, any place where a fire hot enough to burn bones wouldn't be noticed." Aizawa nodded. "There can't be _too_ many places like that within the radius, er, fan."

"Good plan. Let's start with that." Rester closed his laptop, and across the room John and Tetsuo rose to their feet as if responding to an inaudible command.

It felt good to be pursuing a lead after a long day of reviewing video and talking to family members and former NPA employees, but Aizawa still felt torn. _Could Light really be Kira?_ The thought nagged at Aizawa. The Death Note's rules – one of them, anyway – proved that he couldn't be, but the more he investigated, the more clues seemed to point in Light's direction. If Light _wasn't_ Kira, then it seemed like someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to make it seem otherwise.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Heh, Ooi may wish he was the one with the concussion once the police get through with him. You know, L only promised that the Yotsuba Six wouldn't be prosecuted for Kira's crimes, he said nothing about other crimes, or crimes they didn't commit . . . O_O Watari's going a bit far afield for Wedy's care, but he doesn't want to be followed once the authorities catch on – if they catch on. And the translation for the note Aiber found is "Burn this notebook on November 22." L was not expecting his current scenario, but he seems to be adjusting, heh, sort of. And Aizawa and Ide are back! ^_^ I missed them too. Oh, and I don't think the front desk dudes at the NPA were ever named, so I named them.

Things are coming together now, though maybe not in the way I – or they – envisioned. I'll try to update again soon. Thanks for reading!

Oh, and I finally updated my profile so that my favorites are showing – I had them as alerts only before, oops. They're all fics I had been reading before. I haven't been doing much reading since starting this fic (time-consuming? Yeah, sorta, but I also want to stay focused so I can actually finish this!), but I will no doubt get back to that. Let me know if you guys have any recommendations!


	22. Resurgence

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, finding a way to meet Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 22: Resurgence

Steeling Re-Entry

Loud thudding noises reverberated throughout the building, and the lights flickered. A squeal of metal on metal followed by a strange 'thoom' sound came from beyond the elevator doors before eventually giving way to a smooth whirring. There was no mistaking it: the timer had wound down and the lockdown had been lifted at last.

He should have felt relieved, but Mogi felt only dread. It was just a matter of time before Soichiro and Matsuda arrived with the camera they'd found – he'd called Soichiro as soon as the "Lockdown Lifting" message had appeared onscreen, and he knew they'd be coming up to HQ soon enough. Knowing that Light was locked up was one thing, but seeing his son restrained the way he was would be quite another thing for the Chief. Mogi knew that he would have a hard time justifying the straitjacket, straps, and blinder, though he'd agreed with L's decision at the time. He would have to stand firm in the face of Soichiro's inevitable outrage. He just wished that L and Watari would return soon so that he would not have to face it alone for too long.

The monitors showed Light still strapped down, his head drooping to one side as though he was a discarded doll. The hospital gown covered him to the tops of his thighs, but his legs and feet were bare, toes clenching rhythmically. Light's normally coiffed hair was pinned by the metal blinder, some of it sticking up in the back from where he'd rubbed it against the metal slab. His breathing was imperceptible, and a lopsided grin had frozen, twisting his face. Disturbing as the image was, at least Light's ranting had abated for now. Mogi hoped he would remain quiet. He wasn't sure how Soichiro would react if Light started talking to himself again, but he knew it wouldn't be good.

An alert popped up on one of the computers, and Mogi rolled his chair over to take a look. The monitor displayed a black sedan at the garage entrance, and after a moment, the alert box flipped from red to green, showing the name Soichiro Yagami next to his photo. Mogi sighed. _Here we go_ . . .

The metal door clanged down behind them as they entered, and the car glided around and down two levels to park in the usual spot not far from the elevator. A key turning silenced the purring engine as the man brought a phone to his ear.

"Hello, Sayu – could you put your mother on the phone? Yes, I know . . . Thank you." Soichiro set the parking brake as he waited for his wife to get on the line. He wished that there weren't so many things he couldn't tell her, and he wished that there weren't so many things he needed to wish for. He felt Matsuda's eyes on him but did not turn to him, waiting.

"Sachiko – yes, I know it's late. I won't even ask what Sayu is doing up. I . . . yes, yes. I know. I am sorry, Sachiko. Yes, it's going to be another one of those nights. All night, I'm afraid. It is, yes. We're getting very close to solving this case – this could all be over soon." Soichiro sighed. "I realize that, but . . . No. I'm determined to see this through. I know. I . . . Sachiko? I love you. Just knowing that you're there waiting for me when this thing is finished – it means everything to me. I'll see you soon, I promise, just . . . please get some rest. Of course. Goodnight."

Soichiro took several deep breaths after closing his phone, one hand still on the steering wheel as though he was bracing for an impact. He was rarely so emotional with Sachiko, let alone in front of Matsuda, and he did not like having such an intimate conversation overheard by the younger officer, but knowing that there was enough evidence to convince Mogi that Light could be Kira made Soichiro think that the events to come would be grim indeed. He did not know if he or his son would live to see the dawn. Because if his only son was Kira . . . _What right do I have to go on living?_ Soichiro thought. _If he is this mass murderer, how dare I_ –

"Chief?" Matsuda's voice was tentative.

Soichiro looked up and ran his fingers through his graying hair. He knew he had to master his emotions now – Matsuda and the rest of the Task Force deserved no less than his full concentration. "Sorry, Matsuda. Let's head upstairs."

"OK. I mean – we can wait a minute, if you want to, though."

The genuine concern on the younger man's face pained him almost as much as the thought of his son's incarceration. Soichiro swallowed. "That's alright, Matsuda. We should get upstairs and get started."

"Well, sure . . . yeah, I guess we should get to work processing the camera and stuff." Matsuda looked away and opened the door, stepping out of the car. After a moment, Soichiro did the same, the car's doors flung open like black wings.

"Prepare yourself, Matsuda. If the situation has changed as much as I think it has, we'll need to be ready for anything."

"No problem, Chief. We'll see this through to the end together." Matsuda gave a somber thumbs up, grabbing the evidence bag before both men shut their doors.

_The end_. Soichiro wondered how much would be ending and whether it would all be worth it as he walked to the elevator and pressed the arrow up.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Road Flair

The swerving was becoming increasingly distressing. Traffic was not heavy compared to how it was at rush hour, but there were still plenty of vehicles to navigate around. Having an inexperienced driver did not improve matters.

Perched as he was in the middle of the backseat with no functional safety belt, L pondered the absurd vulnerability of his current situation. _I'm stuck in a car being driven by a hysterical imbecile, accompanied by strangers from a University where I am a fake student and one amnesiac murderer huddled in a blanket_, L thought. _And I am perfectly placed to achieve optimal velocity through the windshield should this car impact anything head-on. What a completely pointless and annoying death that would be_. For a moment, he considered opening the door at the next stop light and escaping with Misa, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to unbelt her and shove her out in front of him quickly enough to get away without having to explain. He sighed and resolved to endure the ride until he saw a more viable opportunity to escape unscathed. They were at least closer now to the address he had given.

"Dude! Watch the bus!"

"Gah!" Another swerve. "I thought it was parked!" Sakamoto seemed to be sweating progressively more profusely as the ride continued, despite his being at the wheel.

"_Try_ not to get us all killed." Mori intoned to L's right. Though she did not seem pleased to be sharing a backseat with strangers, particularly in such close quarters, she made no move to stop her hip from pressing against L's. Her left leg bounced nervously, creating a slightly distracting friction between them.

"You're gonna wanna be in the next lane to make the turn at the light . . ."

"I know, I know!" Sakamoto admonished his friend Iwai, who had been bucking to drive instead. L wondered if it would have made any difference in the quality of the ride.

"Hey, Ryuga," Iwai turned around in his seat, "are you sure you don't want to come to the club with us? It's two floors of dancing, and the upper floor is glass, so you can look through and see people dancing on the lower floor, or, you know, the other way around – it's awesome."

"Mm, as 'awesome' as it might be, I would prefer to simply get Ms. Amane home safely." Though Misa didn't react to his dry response, L thought he detected a smirk from Mori. He continued to face straight ahead as Sakamoto took the next turn at a slightly greater speed than necessary, tipping everyone in the car to their right.

"Dammit, Dai." Mori glared at the back of Sakamoto's head as everyone re-righted themselves.

L opted to attempt some measure of politeness, if for no other reason than to gauge reaction. "I apologize." He looked briefly at Mori, dipping his head as if in deference.

"Don't worry about it," Mori grumbled.

"Well, we've got a few more blocks to go before you need to decide, if you change your mind," Iwai persisted. "The night is young, my friend, and the time is ripe for partying!"

L narrowed his eyes slightly, noticing that Iwai was the only person who seemed interested in "partying," and wondered how well he really knew the other two students if he was already calling L a friend. The road flew under them, leaving assorted honks and screeching in their wake.

"So what's your deal?" Mori's voice was low.

L turned to meet her gaze. "Hm?"

"She's not your girlfriend. So what are you doing with her?"

"I already told you, I'm h –"

"Yeah, yeah, you're helping her get home, you said that. My point is – why?" Mori seemed to be scrutinizing L's face.

"Because she needed my help." A small crease bisected L's brow. "Why wouldn't I?"

Mori's eyes narrowed, and she leaned in, dropping her voice further. "No guy helps a girl without expecting something in return."

L glanced at Misa and then back at Mori. "I suppose I am hopeful that she will be grateful, but that is all."

"Uh huh. I can just imagine how you'll want her to show her gratitude." Mori sneered, turning and pulling away from L to press against the door.

L blinked. "I do not expect any sexual favors from Ms. Amane, if that is what you are attempting to imply." He continued to stare at her as she glared out the window into the night.

"It's none of our business, Haru." Iwai seemed to be chuckling. "Leave him alone."

"Whatever." Mori muttered, not turning around.

Misa slipped an arm low around L's back, amused to feel him jump before turning to look at her with the same wide-eyed expression he always seemed to have. She wasn't sure why they all seemed to think she couldn't hear them talking about her. She placed her other hand on L's left knee, nearly at eye level for her, bent as it was, and leaned forward to talk past him. "Ryuga could totally ask me for sexual favors if he wanted – he saved me from a roomful of creeps who _drugged_ me! You don't know anything about us, so back off!" Misa tossed her hair, daring the girl to respond.

Mori rolled her eyes. "I know enough now to wish I hadn't met either of you." She resumed her examination of the passing scenery.

Misa leaned back in her seat, feeling triumphant. She knew L's eyes were on her but did not meet them, snuggling against his side. He was warmer than she would have expected, but he did not return her embrace. She was feeling more awake than she had been earlier, and the idea of going to a dance club held some appeal, but Misa decided it wouldn't fit her plan.

"Hey, if you two are gonna have a chick fight, we can pull over and watch." Iwai raised his eyebrows, grinning over his seat at Mori.

"Shut up, Aku." Mori didn't look at Iwai, and Misa wondered why they were boyfriend and girlfriend if they argued so much.

Iwai laughed and returned his attention to his phone, thumbs moving rapidly. "Tubbins is gonna love this . . ." he murmured.

"Ugh, not _that_ guy again." Mori sounded especially disgusted. "You're part of the reason people like that jerk. I don't know why anyone tells him anything."

"Because he's funny! Don't be mad that his site's more popular than yours." Iwai didn't look up from the text he was sending.

"Who is this 'Tubbins'?" L stared straight ahead, but Misa thought she saw his jaw muscle jump.

"How do you _not_ know him? Are you even a student?" Mori glared at L.

"I spend most of my time actually studying, rather than socializing, so I do not know every student." L's voice sounded as blank as his expression.

"You mean when you're not 'rescuing' girls?" Mori paused as if waiting for a response, but L continued to stare at her. Misa was finding that she liked it when L was annoying someone other than herself or Light.

Mori sighed. "Tubbins is a student – his blog is, like, gossip central. People feed him information, like who got drunk and did something stupid, or who wore something really ridiculous, or who's cheating on who." Mori caught Misa's eye. "You know, crap like that."

L seemed to be processing that when Misa spoke up. "Wait – what were you texting him then?"

Iwai chuckled. "You'll just have to read and see later."

"You better not have said anything bad about me!" Misa felt her face get hot. "I'll make you regret it!"

"Ha! Oh, really?" Iwai grinned broadly at her.

"What's the matter, Amane? Are you worried your boyfriend will find out about you and Ryuga?" Mori's voice was honeysweet.

"Huh? Wait, _that's_ what you wrote? That I'm with Ryuga?" Misa looked at Iwai, who shrugged. "Well, whatever then. If Light really loved me, he'd have rescued me instead." _At least he's not texting about seeing me in this awful dress_, Misa thought; _how embarrassing!_

An extended silence followed Misa's words until another swerve shook them all out of it. Iwai cracked up, his laughter filling the car. "I am _so_ adding that," he said, texting again.

Misa wasn't sure what was bothering L, but she could feel the tension in his back muscles increasing. _It's not like they got any pics of us – there's no way I'd let them use a pic of me like this!_ she thought. _He just needs to chill out_. Misa opened her mouth to speak, but he turned away to face Mori.

"You do not seem to get along very well with your boyfriend."

"What?" Mori seemed thunderstruck. "You're not actually hitting on me, are you?"

"Of course not." L's bland tone nearly set Misa giggling. "It just seems strange for someone so concerned with others' emotional entanglements to pay so little attention to her own. Though I suppose that's easier than facing up to a problem."

No longer able to restrain herself, Misa let a light laugh slip out, unfazed by the other girl's dark expression.

"Not everything is what it seems to be." Mori intoned, eyes narrowed to slits.

"Yes. And not everything that is not as it seems is necessarily negative." L spoke solemnly, as though he didn't have a giggling blonde attached to his side.

"Dai! This is it – that's the corner!" Iwai pointed.

"Wait! I can't pull over here – I have to . . . oh, crap . . ." Sakamoto made one last swerve, narrowly missing two cars and a bicyclist before pulling to the curb – in a no parking zone. "You guys have to get out – I can't stay parked here!"

"That is fine. Let's go, Misa."

"Finally! I was getting tired of that 'Ms. Amane' stuff." Misa stuck out her tongue, pleased to see L's eyebrows go up. "Oh right! I have to open the door." Misa turned and pulled on the door handle. "Thanks for the ride, you guys!"

"Yes, thank you." L's voice sounded anything but grateful as they stepped out of the car.

"Catch you guys later!" Iwai shouted out at them before Mori pulled the door shut with some force.

Misa and L stepped onto the curb and watched as the little brown sedan swerved back into traffic, miraculously missing a white stretch limousine. Unconsciously, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

"You know I didn't mean it about the sexual favors, right?"

"Yes Misa, I know." L turned and walked away toward the street corner, hands in his pockets.

"We're not really going to that wrong address you gave them, are we?" Misa exasperatedly caught up to L, pausing only when he turned to give her a nearly imperceptible smile.

"We are not. I simply thought it prudent for us to cross at the walk." L put a thumb to his lower lip, now staring at her. "It is good to see that you have been thinking clearly after all, Misa."

Misa bit back a gasp. She knew she'd have to be more careful now for her plan to work. "I think I always think more clearly than you think I think, Ryuzaki."

L's smile spread slightly. "Hm. You think so?"

Misa giggled despite herself as she came to a stop next to him at the corner, hitching the blanket further up her shoulders. _We're going back to the HQ building, just like I hoped_, Misa thought; _Light will be there too – I know I can make this work!_ Misa looped her arm through L's, not looking at him. The light turned at last, and they crossed.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Regrets

_Idiots, all of them – completely incompetent idiots_. With a sour expression, he realized that he couldn't even exclude himself from his own description. They had made assumptions, bad ones. The worst one was that the second Kira was working alone.

When they had regained consciousness after the attack, they had made the decision to split up once they got out of the room. They had been trying to remove the hinges from the door when firefighters arrived and took an axe to the door to extract them. It was easy enough to pretend to be victims, claiming lightheadedness from fumes as they had finally exited the building. Though the fire had essentially turned out to be a ruse, they had managed to disperse quickly enough to avoid questioning by police.

_Our attackers must not have wanted the attention of the authorities either – perhaps they even intended for us to evade the police as well_, Namikawa thought. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing for a moment. _Even if Amane isn't the second Kira, there is clearly more to her than just being a spokesmodel and actress. Someone went to a good deal of trouble tracking her down without involving the police – could Yoshida Productions have pulled this off?_ Namikawa wondered. _And if so, would they have even wanted Amane's kidnapping covered up? Such a thing would have generated a great deal of publicity, and sympathy, for her . . . although if it connected her with Kira, they might not have wanted that_.

Namikawa wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but if anything, he was more worried than he had been before putting his plan into action. This time, however, he resolved to be more cautious. He would not let his anxiety drive him to act imprudently. Not again.

He wished he could make at least one call, but the six had agreed not to contact each other until the start of the next work day in order to keep up the appearance of normalcy in the event they were ever connected with Amane's disappearance. "Plausible deniability will be easier to maintain if we aren't in constant contact. Our calls during the day can be written off as work-related." It had seemed perfectly logical when he'd said it. But if something had gone wrong . . .

Taking a deep breath, Namikawa walked into the kitchen. The clinking of ice cubes in his glass sounded far too cheerful to suit his mood. He knew that he could not let himself worry about the things over which he had no control – he did not want to make a habit of that. He stalked over to the bar and poured some Laphroaig into his glass, the ice cracking as the deep amber liquid embraced it. He had taken only one sip when the chime rang out to indicate that someone had passed the gate and was approaching his door.

Eyes narrowed, Namikawa swallowed another mouthful of the fiery liquid, evaluating his options, before setting his drink down and staring at the door. It was too late in the day for casual visitors. There was a ceremonial sword on the wall of his bedroom, and he considered retrieving it, when a perfunctory double-knock came at the door. Namikawa exhaled in annoyance and marched into the foyer, yanking the doorknob toward him.

"I decided that it would be implausible for me not to visit you."

"Get in here." Namikawa's voice was nearly a growl as he stepped aside. "What part of 'no contact' was unclear to you?" He closed the door quietly but firmly, re-checking the locks and alarms.

Mido smirked. "You were primarily concerned with phone records, as I recall. And personal behavior disruption. Given how much time we've been spending together, it would have been more suspicious for us to avoid each other."

Namikawa shook his head. "Always looking for loopholes, aren't you."

Mido's smirk became a grin. "Tell me you aren't happy to see me."

Namikawa exhaled sharply, the closest he'd been to a laugh all day. "Unbelievable."

"See? No faulting _my_ logic." Mido closed the distance between them and clasped Namikawa's face like a chalice, bringing their lips together. After a moment, he pulled back. "Is that the Laphroaig?" Mido licked his lips. "No harm in breaking out the good stuff, I suppose." He let go, tracing a finger across Namikawa's chest as he disengaged, strolling into the kitchen, distant clinking eventually reaching Namikawa's ears.

"Drink and be merry, for tomorrow . . ." Namikawa murmured to himself, moving to sit on the couch near his own glass.

"Don't be so gloomy." Mido walked to the row of bottles, glass soldiers on a mahogany plain. "The authorities didn't seem at all suspicious of us, and we were able to rearrange that room entirely and smuggle out the broken handcuffs and extra lights unnoticed. They didn't even suspect that we might have been the targets." Mido poured some of the single-malt scotch for himself.

"It's not really the 'authorities' I'm concerned about." Namikawa took a sip as Mido sat next to him.

"So telling us to avoid contact was your way of getting some time to yourself?"

Namikawa rolled his eyes. "Very funny. I'm not saying that the NPA couldn't cause problems for us. It's just . . . they aren't the only ones who would be seeing potentially incriminating information."

"You're worried about L." Mido intoned.

"I'm mainly worried about Kira, although . . ." Namikawa took another sip, relishing the flavor as he weighed his words. "I'm not sure there's much of a distinction. The more I think about the Amane incident, the more I wonder if they're connected, or even worse . . ."

"Are you trying to say that you think L . . . is Kira?" Mido raised an eyebrow.

"That's one possibility. Or Amane is Kira and L is protecting her. Or an unknown third party is Kira and is working in collusion with Amane and L."

"Just for my personal edification, how exactly did you come up with these theories?" Mido pointedly eyed Namikawa's glass.

"This is my first tonight, thank you very much." Namikawa raised his glass before setting it on the table with a sharp clink. "Just hear me out. We know that L interrogated Amane under suspicion of being the second Kira but let her go, supposedly telling her she had been cleared. At least, that's what _she_ told us. It's possible that she was working for L in exchange for a reduced sentence. There's no doubt in my mind that she was in on the plan to fake her manager's death, since L used the manager on Sakura TV to draw Higuchi out."

"I'm with you on that, but how do you get from there to 'L might be Kira'?"

"If she was truly a suspect, why let her interact with other possible suspects? Unless he knew there weren't any. Otherwise, it seems too dangerous."

"True, but contacting you in the middle of one of our meetings was potentially dangerous. This is the same guy who challenged Kira to kill him on television. L may be the proverbial 'invisible detective,' but he doesn't seem to engage in risk-averse behavior. Neither do you, for that matter, considering your impersonation of him today." Mido swirled his drink as he spoke. "And it is _possible_ that Amane was innocent. Wasn't that the point of our investigating that nurse at St. Luke's?"

"That was a mistake. It got us nowhere and nearly tipped L off that we were investigating separately, which would have made us look guilty. We might have gotten some useful information if Takahashi hadn't bungled the surveillance, but considering the way L asked me about St. Luke's, I think he may have been trying to throw me off anyway – possibly even encouraging us to continue down the wrong track, if he found out we were watching Ms. Collins. Regarding Amane . . . what would you say the odds of L being wrong about a suspect would be?" Namikawa regarded Mido thoughtfully.

"How would we know? We only ever hear about the results of an investigation, not how many people L investigated before he reached a conclusion."

"Exactly. He works in secret, with, at most, a select few people. His _reputation_ is that he's always right and solves every case – which is either true, if improbable, or he is able to keep everyone involved quiet about any mistakes he's made. Yet Amane told us he investigated her and was wrong about her. Why would such information, true or not, be allowed to leak unless he intended for us to hear it?"

"Do you believe Coil was involved as well?" Mido sipped his drink, watching Namikawa.

"Possibly. Although I think it's more likely that L simply knew we had contracted with Coil and took steps to coach Amane on how to respond to him." Namikawa paused, frowning. "And L definitely has the resources he would have needed to find and take Amane from us today – money, personnel, equipment. All without ever having to show himself. He would be able to fool us all, pretending to investigate Kira while being Kira in secret . . . it's a terrifying thought, the idea of one person having so much power . . ." Namikawa fiddled absently with his cuff.

"Know what I think?"

"I feel sure you're about to tell me." Namikawa reluctantly dragged his eyes to meet Mido's.

"I think you're pissed off at L for messing up your plans and would prefer to just blame him for everything that's happened to us relating to Kira. It _would_ make things simpler, wouldn't it." Mido's expression was warm.

"It's –" Namikawa sighed. "It's not about what would be simpler or easier for me to take. There are too many contradictions. And not just with the Amane situation." Swallowing, Namikawa stared into his glass. "When he spoke to me on the phone yesterday, only the third time I've ever spoken with him, he seemed . . . different somehow. Colder, more dismissive – as though I was no more important than an insect."

Mido chuckled softly. "So you don't like it when someone does it to _you_ . . ."

Namikawa glared, feeling the heat on his face. "That's not the point. He seemed almost like a different person."

"Hmm. Well, maybe there is no single 'L' – maybe it's always been a group of people pretending to be one. That seems more likely than just one super-detective, in any event."

"Maybe. In which case one of the group could be Kira." Namikawa ignored Mido's rolled eyes with some effort. "This would all make more sense to me if he was in on it somehow." He took another sip. "I just hate not knowing what's going on."

"Ah, now we've gotten to it."

"You really are insufferable, you know."

"I am. Good thing you love me."

Namikawa pointedly looked away, expression arch. "That could change."

"Mhm." Mido edged closer to Namikawa on the couch.

"There is one more thing that's been bothering me. During that last call from L," Namikawa ignored Mido's huff of exasperation, "he said that the police had been threatened by Kira. 'Credible threat' was his exact phrasing. Why would he tell me that? If it's true, my knowing it could potentially jeopardize his response to the threat, but if it's not . . . what would he have hoped to accomplish by saying that? Was he trying to scare me? Accuse me? Distract me? And if so . . . why?"

"Because you were annoying him?" Mido tilted his head as Namikawa folded his arms. "Listen, it doesn't have to make sense that he might invent something to give you the brush-off, but there's nothing to prove it was a lie either. Odds are the threat was real, and he happened to be in the middle of dealing with it – telling you probably meant that he was fishing for information on the off-chance you knew something he could use. And L being L . . . he may have assumed that there wasn't anything you _could_ have done with the information to compromise his efforts. He's a cocky bastard, from what I can tell."

"This has all been so frustrating. I could kill Higuchi for putting us through all this, if he weren't dead already." Namikawa took a final swig of his scotch, ice cubes colliding with his lips.

"Well, as you say, Higuchi has already been taken care of. I may be able to help you with that frustration you mentioned, however . . ." Mido pressed his lips to Namikawa's neck.

Namikawa chuckled low in his throat. "That's your answer to everything."

"Not everything – just most things."

Namikawa allowed himself to be distracted, fingers on the buttons of Mido's shirt, deciding that there was little he could do to resolve his concerns at the moment. _Perhaps a new day will shed more light on what options we have left_, he thought. Forgotten ice in separate glasses melted as the two men merged on the couch.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Meek Escutcheon

"Are you telling me that this entire building was locked down and all of our research was deleted, and you don't even know what he _took_?" Soichiro's face was a darker shade of red than Matsuda had ever seen it. "I cannot believe that you would lock him up for that, with no evidence!"

"Ryuzaki has the evidence, on a flashdrive." Mogi's face was blank. "And the shinigami confirmed that Light is Kira."

"Why would you take that creature's word?"

"She didn't say it to me." Mogi's voice was quiet but firm. He calmly held Soichiro's glare until the older man faltered, taking a step back and looking down, eyes haunted.

"Wait, I don't get it – who did Rem say it to, then?" Matsuda hated the silence more than the angry shouting. "Was it Ryuzaki? Or Watari?"

Regret and dismay showed on Mogi's face when he turned to Matsuda, but he remained silent. Matsuda wondered why he wouldn't explain.

"An overheard conversation between my son and that . . . thing still doesn't prove anything." Soichiro sounded hoarse, and he seemed not to notice Matsuda's widening eyes. "When can we find out what was on the flashdrive, Mogi?"

"Ryuzaki has it. He can show us when he gets back."

Soichiro took off his glasses and rubbed his face, silence filling the room once more.

"I don't get that either – why did Ryuzaki and Watari leave?" Matsuda didn't like having to ask but knew it might not be explained otherwise.

Mogi sighed. "They didn't go into details. They said a package they'd been expecting had been lost, so they had to get it back."

"But Watari has stuff delivered all the time!" Matsuda scratched his head. "It wouldn't make sense for them to go get something like that themselves."

"Code then?" Soichiro's low voice startled Matsuda for a moment.

Mogi nodded once. "That was my guess."

"Ohhh . . . so the 'package' isn't really a package, huh?" Matsuda rubbed his chin. "Or maybe it _is_ a package, and –"

"Matsuda, please." Soichiro let out a ragged breath and sat on one of the couches.

"Sorry Chief."

"It's alright. I just need some time to think." Soichiro put his glasses back on. "May I speak to him, Mogi?"

The pause was so long that Matsuda thought Mogi might not answer. "I think it'd be better if you didn't, Chief." Mogi's expression was somber.

Soichiro sighed. "We can't leave him in there forever, Mogi. We have no way of knowing when Ryuzaki and Watari will return."

"Actually . . ." Matsuda pointed at one of the monitors. "At least we know one of them will be up here soon."

Mogi and Soichiro looked at the monitor Matsuda indicated in time to see L entering the elevator from the lobby accompanied by Misa Amane, and their brows furrowed in unison.

"Oh wow. I guess whatever's on that flashdrive must have implicated Misa-Misa too." Matsuda wondered what was going on.

"The Death Note rules exonerated them both!" Soichiro suddenly shouted. "He's wrong about them! He has to be . . ."

"What if the rules are wrong?" Matsuda blurted out, immediately regretting it as Soichiro's eyes flashed to his.

"Or there may be some exceptions or other rules that aren't written, like Ryuzaki said." Mogi added. "Nothing was written about 'the eyes,' remember?"

"Well, at least we can ask Ryuzaki when he gets here." Matsuda took a deep breath. "I may as well start some coffee brewing. Then maybe I should change . . ."

"Are you uncomfortable, Dr. Matsuda?" Mogi deadpanned.

"Oh, ha ha." Matsuda blushed, looking down at the surgical scrubs he was still wearing. "Actually, my Mom would be happy to see me like this – she always wanted me to be a doctor. Be right back."

Matsuda entered the kitchen, his hands busying themselves with the task of coffee preparation automatically. He strained to hear any conversation drifting down the hall from HQ, but he heard no voices. _I hope the Chief is OK_, he thought; _Light's been under suspicion for a long while, but it feels different now_. Thinking back to the conversation Soichiro had had with his wife, Matsuda wondered what he would tell his family if it did turn out that Light was Kira. _Something like that . . . wouldn't be easy on anyone_. The burbling sounds of brewing coffee alerted him to the fact that he had finished what he was doing without thinking about it once. _Whoa – hope I did it right_, he thought, ambling back out of the kitchen. He decided not to change clothes, not wanting to miss anything important. _I miss too much stuff as it is_.

As Matsuda re-entered HQ, he saw that Soichiro was frowning as he dialed his cellphone. After a few moments, he flipped his phone closed, seeming to swallow a growl. "Ryuzaki's phone is off, or not working."

"Well, now that he's in the building, we can just call whatever room he's in if he doesn't come right up here." Matsuda looked at the monitors, but didn't see L or Misa anymore. "Huh." Walking to a computer, Matsuda started typing and then scrolling through images until he saw what he was looking for. "Ha! There they are." He gestured triumphantly.

"Amane's old room." Soichiro stared at the screen, watching Misa chatter animatedly with L in her livingroom.

"Yeah, I figured he'd bring her back there since it's still set up the way she left it." Matsuda felt pleased to have figured something out, though Soichiro's dark expression as he dialed the phone on the desk made him wonder if he should have kept it to himself.

"Ryuzaki, it's –" Soichiro ground his teeth, listening. "Yes, I do – several, in fact. We need to –" His face flashed red. "How can that be more important? You owe us an explanation! I –" Soichiro covered his brow with his palm. "Yes. No, I . . . I see. Alright. Just – get here as soon as you can. Yes, we are. Thank you." He dropped the phone receiver in its cradle, eyes hooded.

"Well . . . ?" Matsuda was almost afraid to ask.

"He'll be here soon." Soichiro sighed. "He said he has to take care of something after he secures Amane."

"So he's tying Misa up again?" Matsuda arched an eyebrow.

"I don't know, Matsuda!" Soichiro's rough voice made Matsuda flinch.

"OK, sorry." Matsuda moved away, returning his attention to the monitors in front of him.

Though it was no surprise to see Soichiro so upset – especially with Light bound the same way Misa had been – it still stung Matsuda that the rapport they'd developed seemed to have gone out the window. _He'll be OK_, Matsuda thought, hope springing back within him; _maybe Aizawa will even call with evidence clearing Light!_

Matsuda stopped what he was doing, mouth agape, on the verge of slapping his forehead. _I can't believe I forgot about the camera from the warehouse already!_ Matsuda shook his head, scrolling through just a few more views on the monitors. _As soon as I'm done with this, I'll start taking fingerprints and then crack that thing open! I wish Watari was here, though_ . . .

Staring at the screens, curious as to where the shinigami might be, Matsuda wondered for the first time if working on the Kira case was changing who they were, and if that change was for the better. He hoped it was. He held onto his hope like a shield and banished all notion that shields were used only in battle.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Another long-ish chapter – it's hard sometimes to be consistent that way when the story feels like it should break in a particular spot, lengths be damned. Just a bit more Mido/Namikawa, though it's far from being a lemon – more like conspiracy theories akimbo, ha! It's fun to write discussions between people who are smart enough to almost understand something but don't have enough information to figure it all out. Wonder what would happen if Ide talked to Namikawa (yay parallels!). ^_^ They seem closer to understanding some things than poor Matsuda, but then again . . . Matsuda gets further with intuition and impulse, not to mention luck. And it looks like Mogi is learning to be sneaky – maybe he _has_ been hanging out with L too much, mwahaha.

The return of L and Misa to HQ could have been left until next chapter, but I didn't want to drag it out. I don't mind writing OCs, but they're really not my focus – I only pop them in there when there's a need, and it'd be kinda unrealistic for them to never meet anyone else when they wander outside. Plus, it amused me to have L stuck between Misa and Mori and have him thinking of potential impending doom instead of "Woo, I'm in a girl sammich!" as some guys might. The theme song for their ride could have been "Panic Switch" by Silversun Pickups, heh. And yes, even without her memories, Misa's still trying to work some angle.

The song I'm hearing in my head anytime I focus on Light-in-restraints is Deftones' "Change (in the House of Flies)" if anyone remembers that one. Oh, and apropos of nothing, I don't think Light was compelled by any kind of supernatural enchantment to start using the Death Note (I think he used it, rationalized doing so, and then his actions changed who he was over time). I get that it's a possible interpretation, but . . . it takes all of the dramatic tension out of his using it if he was compelled, and that's a lot less interesting to me. Holy crap, now I sound like Ryuk. O_o

*runs off to eat apples*


	23. Tree for the Forest

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, finding a way to meet Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

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**Turn of the 8th Day**

Chapter 23: Tree for the Forest

Wheels within Wheels

"Hey! Where is my shampoo?" Stomping sounds trailed from the bathroom into the livingroom. "Hellooo . . . There's no shampoo _or_ conditioner _or_ soap _or_ lotion in there!"

"You took all those things with you when you left."

"Well, it's not like I expected to come back here! And I guess I just _forgot_ to pack a bag for my own kidnapping!" Misa's face felt hot. "How am I supposed to take a bath? If you knew I'd be coming back, you should have restocked everything." Misa clenched her fists, willing L to meet her eyes.

"Then it stands to reason that I did not expect you to be returning here." L continued to fiddle with a device just outside the door.

"But . . . but you knew I'd been kidnapped."

"I became aware of that after it had happened, yes. And I acted as quickly as I could to free you. I did not have time to expend on such mundane tasks as 'restocking.'" A beep sounded, and L re-entered, closing the door and starting to work on another device next to it inside the room.

"So . . . you just kept my room the same way I left it?" Misa unclenched her fists.

"Mhm." L kept working, his back to her.

"And you ran right out to rescue me when I was in trouble?"

"Well, technically, I _sent_ someone to help you escape, and when you _hurt_ her . . ." A beep issued from the interior device. "I then chose to find and retrieve you myself." L straightened up into his signature slouch.

"Wow . . . you must really care about me!" Misa ignored L's sigh and hugged him from behind, making him freeze up.

"Misa . . ."

"It's OK. You can get Misa shampoo and stuff later." Misa relinquished her grip on L, letting one hand slip down to grab his butt as she backed away. _Gotcha back, 'Ryuga,'_ she thought as his head swiveled quickly to stare at her over his shoulder. "Maybe when – oh no!" Misa rushed to the bedroom closet, dread building within her, and flung the door open. "Noooo! Oh, this is awful!" Misa waited for L to respond but heard nothing. She frowned. "Ryuzaki!"

"Yes?" L's voice wafted in from the other room.

"I have no clothes! Just this horrible dress, which is, like, totally dirty now." Misa grimaced. "I don't even have pajamas!" Misa wondered why L hadn't followed her into the bedroom. "Are you even listening to me?"

"I am listening, but . . . I cannot resolve any of those concerns at this moment."

"Oh! OK, well, maybe in the morning we could go on a little shopping spree, just the two of us . . ." Misa walked back toward the livingroom. _He said once that he could fall for me – if I can just get a little closer to him, get him to trust me_, Misa thought, _not only would it make Light jealous and want to be with me more, but I can finally convince Ryuzaki that Light isn't Kira! It's a win-win!_ Misa suppressed a squee of anticipation.

As Misa entered the livingroom, L was stepping backward through the door, one fist jammed in a pocket, face blank. "I will have some things sent to you when I can, Misa. You will be unable to leave in the meantime, however." The door shut between them.

"What? Wait!" Misa ran to the closed door and pulled on the handle, which did not budge. Finally, she looked at the device L had been working on. "A screen? With a . . . hand on it? And what's this thingie . . ." She poked an unfamiliar-looking sensor and then impulsively placed her hand on the palm reader. A red light flashed back at her, but nothing else happened. _He tricked me!_ Misa thought.

"Dammit Ryuzaki!"

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Perfection

Reading was getting her nowhere, but she continued just the same. It wasn't her intention to read herself to sleep, not really. Losing herself in a book late into the night was her personal indulgence after a long day spent obsessively cleaning. She reflected with some amusement that reading Kafka's The Trial in the original German might not be everyone's idea of a leisurely indulgence, but no one else needed to know. This was her time.

She looked up from the page, an ear cocked, taking an account of the sounds of the house. The hum of the refrigerator was the only discernable noise, and she sighed. No pacing on the floorboards or squeaking of chairs, no rustling in the kitchen, and still no jiggling of the lock at the front door. Despite knowing what to expect, and what not to expect, it didn't stop hope from leaping inside her, as if hope itself hoped to be freed from the yoke that bound it within.

Long ago, she had decided on pragmatism. Her mother, though intelligent, had been willful and impulsive, and it had often cost them the stability and comfort of a "normal" life. Thus, once she had reached adulthood, she had done her best to achieve such normalcy, some way of feeling moored rather than tossed about on the open ocean – for herself and for her family. She felt lucky to have found a man who loved her, considering that she would have settled for someone who was simply suitable. It made everything easier, even when his job occasionally interfered. She did not require proof of his love in words or in presents – his presence, and the stability he provided, was enough. His declaration earlier that evening had shaken her, hinting of turbulence, but she reasoned that he was trying to console her for his absence. It was sensible enough.

Soft footfalls caught her attention, and she set the book on her lap, waiting. The sound of running water started and then stopped, and the footsteps seemed to retrace themselves. _Just a glass of water, then_, she thought; _no bad dreams or curious questions tonight_. She hoped her daughter would sleep well. The girl had a bright-eyed innocence and enthusiasm that she could not recall ever possessing. It worried her, sometimes, that her mother's spirit was somehow shining through her own child, mocking her decisions, but she rationalized to herself that it was likely the sacrifices she had made to provide stability paying off in happiness and success for her children.

She knew it had paid off for her son. He was absolutely brilliant and the perfect gentleman, so clearly the product of a stable and traditional home life. She could not have created a better son if she had shaped him with her hands and mind directly, instilling in him every natural gift available to men. Though she tried not to pin too many hopes on him, it was difficult to resist when he seemed to meet or exceed every goal set before him. He had only just started university – there was still time to convince him not to take the same path as his father. _Not that there is anything wrong with policework_, she thought, _but he can do so much more with his life_. Because she had chosen pragmatism and tradition, she'd had to give up one goal to achieve another. No prestigious career for her. But her son – her son could have it all. _His glory will be ours_.

Sachiko smiled and sipped the last of her tea. Though the pot was empty now, she did not want to risk waking Sayu by going through all of the necessary steps to make more. _Sleep for us both, little one_, she thought; _I will wait for my husband_. Vigilance, temperance, cleanliness, order – these things were important to her. She would never say this to Soichiro, or anyone else, but she was secretly glad that Kira was hard at work killing criminals. The moral dilemmas were not lost on her, but she hoped that Kira would finish his work before her husband caught him. _He's tidying up the world as I tidy up my house_, Sachiko thought warmly. _Once the worst of the criminals are gone, Kira can be tidied up as well. All those who remain will have been helped by just a bit more stability_.

Suspended in the warm pool of lamplight on her bedside, Sachiko turned another page, a smile still ghosting her lips as she indulged in another chapter, everything around her perfectly in place.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Ricochet

Sprinting through the door and closing it behind him, caution no longer binding him, he knew that he would have to work quickly – stalling the others would not work for long. He moved toward the voice modulator next to the computer and settled in the chair, hoping that there would be no distractions for a little while.

"Why can't she see me?"

L ran a palm from brow to chin. _So much for that_, he thought bitterly, pivoting in his chair to face the shinigami, face now successfully blank. "Surely you've deduced that by now?"

Rem pointed a bony finger at his chest. "You promised I would be able to speak to Misa."

L did not recall saying the word 'promise' at any point, and technically there was nothing preventing Rem from speaking to Misa, though she would not be heard, but he opted not to say any of that. "I did not expect her to give up ownership of her Death Note immediately."

Rem gasped. "You forced her to give up her memories already?"

"_No_, I suggested that she might avoid mental stress if she gave up her memories while in the process of convincing her not to kill me." L took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, lamenting that his new quarters could not be kept secret from beings who passed through walls. "She relinquished ownership right in front of me. Misa has a tendency to act impulsively, as I am sure you know."

"But why would she do that?" Rem stared down at L, looming over him with a narrowed eye.

L stared balefully at the shinigami, wanting her to just go away. "Likely because she did not wish to inadvertently divulge any more information confirming that Light is Kira."

"You interrogated her again?" Rem inched closer to L.

"Asking her a few questions on the street is hardly an interrogation." L unflinchingly met Rem's glare. "I would have preferred that she had kept her memories so that you and I could have spoken to her together. I believe we would have been able to persuade her to act in her own self-interest rather than allowing Light to continue to hide behind her."

Rem remained silent but did not move away, seeming to consider what L had said. L tilted his head slightly. "I don't suppose there is a way for Misa to regain her memories without regaining ownership, is there?"

"Where is the Death Note?"

L straightened his head. "It's . . . actually, I moved it. It is safe, but no longer in this building." L allowed a whisper of a smile to touch his face briefly. "Which of course confirms that you are linked to the owner and not to the notebook itself."

Rem sighed, slumping. "Misa's memories would not be restored unless she touched the Death Note that she originally used. And she would only have those memories while she was touching it, unless she regained ownership while still in contact."

_Could that be_ . . . L's thought barely completed itself before a barrage of several others bombarded him – images and remembered words blasting through his mind, falling in place, locking into a pattern. "Rem . . . might one regain ownership of a Death Note by killing its current owner, possibly by using a piece of it or of a different Death Note?"

"If the Death Note has a human owner, and one is touching the Death Note when that owner dies, then yes."

L's face tipped forward and he felt a grin stretching across it. _Stay focused_, he admonished himself. _Even if this information is completely accurate, it might as well be hearsay without solid proof. If only we had the piece of Death Note that Light must have used in the helicopter_ . . . L shook himself. "That is . . . interesting to hear. Misa's original notebook is not the one Higuchi was using, correct?"

"That is correct."

"Then it doesn't matter that it has been moved, since it would not restore Misa's memories."

"That is true, but what of the Death Note Misa gave up? Did she not turn it over to you?"

"It is hidden." L suppressed a growl of frustration. "In fact, Ryuk invited me to go 'find' it," L noticed Rem's head jerking a bit at the mention of Ryuk, "which means it is either hidden well, or . . . it is no longer available somehow. As imperative as it is that we retrieve that notebook, I cannot engage in a possibly fruitless scavenger hunt at the moment. Unless you happen to know where it is . . . ?" L looked directly into her eye, hoping.

"I do not." Rem dropped her gaze to the floor.

"That is unfortunate." L turned away to face the computer, hiding sharp disappointment. _She does not seem to be lying_, he thought, _which means that Light is the only person here still likely to know where it is – I'd have better luck shouting up to the shinigami realm myself_. L swallowed, refocusing himself on tasks he could accomplish.

"Have you searched her apartment?"

L already intended to have someone go back to Misa's apartment and do a thorough search to remove any additional Death Note pages that might still be hidden there, though he suspected that the Death Note itself must be somewhere else, given Ryuk's comment to him, but he didn't want to prolong his conversation with Rem by pointlessly explaining things. "There is work I must return to, shinigami. Even if you cannot be heard by Misa, you can at least watch over her now."

"I want to ask her how she has been treated – speaking with her was part of our deal!" Rem's voice was indignant.

"As I explained, I do not have access to Misa's Death Note, so unless you can locate it . . ."

There was a pause before Rem replied. "You want me to go on your scavenger hunt for you?"

"That would achieve your goal, would it not?" L began scribbling some notes, listening intently.

"But that would take me away from Misa, not that I could go far . . ." Rem's voice sounded strangled.

"Mm. Because you are anchored to Light. Who is Kira." L kept his eyes on his task. "I am afraid I cannot allow him to exit the building under current circumstances. It would limit your search, but you could still conduct one. The sooner you find it, the sooner you will be able to ask Misa how she has been treated." _If she truly wants to speak with Misa, memories intact, as she says_, L thought, _then she should want to begin her search immediately. Why would she delay?_

Rem sighed. "If I touch Misa with any piece of a Death Note, she will be able to see and hear me, but without her memories –"

L spun his chair around, one hand gripping the edge of the desk to slow him. "If talking to her without her memories restored will suffice for now, then please go do so. You've had that ability all along."

"You said the Death Note that Higuchi used was –"

"Use your own!" L's irritation was starting to show, to his further annoyance. "The one you carry with you – or did you wish to pretend you do not have one?"

Rem's mouth hung open, eye wide. "That . . . that is not generally done."

"Would it work?" L kept his face blank, slowing his breathing again.

Rem blinked. "It . . . yes, it should work."

"Then please do it." L turned away again, the aggravation in his voice completely gone now. "Although it would better suit both of our needs if you searched for Misa's notebook, so I would recommend that you do that first. Misa is perfectly safe – Light does not and will not know she is here. If you are unable to find the notebook, we can work on expanding the search later."

"Ryuzaki . . ."

"Ordinarily, I would prefer to accompany you and participate in the discussion, but there are several things I must attend to now in nearly no time." L wished that Rem would just go look for the other notebook, but hoped that speaking to Misa would assuage her worry and keep her occupied for awhile. "You don't mind having a private conversation with Ms. Amane do you?"

The silence went on for a few seconds too long, so L looked over his shoulder. Rem was gone. L sighed with relief before returning to his scribbling. He knew that Soichiro would start taking matters into his own hands if he didn't return to HQ soon, but there were still a few more plans and contingencies to set into motion first. _Just in case_. He hoped that Watari would be rejoining them soon as well, but he resolved to proceed without him if not. L felt time pressing in on him more than ever, the weight of each moment increasing as the next one slipped away. He did not dare waste any more.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Misgivings

_"Are you sure about this?"_

_"Absolutely. She will receive optimal care here, and they have agreed to keep her 'off the books' as they say. You will stay with her as Agent Amberson until she recovers."_

_"If you trust these guys, why leave me here with her?"_

_"Oh, I do trust them, to a point. But I need you here with her in the event that things go awry elsewhere. Depending on circumstances, you may need to get her out on your own – not that I think they will stop you. Also, I imagine she'll be happier if she sees a familiar face upon awakening."_

_"I'm . . . not sure about that."_

_"Please do your best. I have wired additional sums to your accounts in the event you need to make travel arrangements yourselves."_

Watari went over the conversation he'd had with Aiber in his head again as he flew the freshly-refueled helicopter away from Osaka. The man had seemed preoccupied, and not just at the prospect of being left at a military base with an unconscious Wedy, though he had been unable to discern why. _Perhaps he is worried for me_, Watari thought, _flying for so long in the dark at my age_. Watari's eyes twinkled. _He really should know me better than that_.

Tokyo was still far in the distance, but he thought he could see its lights piercing the sky. Strangely, it made him long for the somehow warmer glow of London's cityscape, which in turn made him think of the meat pasties he used to get on his way home from school – they had been hot enough that tucking them into his bag had eventually warped his history book from the steam. Watari's stomach grumbled at the inadequacy of the granola bar he'd eaten earlier. "You're just going to have to wait, old man," he amusedly admonished himself.

He knew that it would be awhile before he arrived at HQ, and so he went over the various things he was going to have to do once he got there to keep his mind occupied. As he guided the helicopter north and east, he hoped he was not missing anything important.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Stamp'd on These Lifeless Things

Dust swirled past the domed aperture, eliciting nary a blink. There were several of these 'windows,' each a pregnant belly blown wide on a plain of sand and scrub. He continued to stare into it as if searching its depths for afterbirth.

Crunching sounds came from behind him, but he did not turn. He had decisions to make and little interest in the games of his peers – his game, he found, was far superior. After a moment, the crunching stopped.

"Why are you watching the human world from here, Ryuk? Did you tire of your playthings?" A chortle emitted from the creature's fanged maw.

"Nah," Ryuk said listlessly, wondering why the other shinigami was bothering to ask him questions, "my first human switched notes so that I got stuck with this dumb girl for awhile, and then she gave up ownership. So boring."

"Ha! So your experiment was a failure." Zellogi crouched next to Ryuk, to his annoyance.

"I wouldn't say that. The first human was interesting . . . and there's another one that has some potential too."

"Why not give the Death Note to _that_ human then?"

"Heh heh – I told him he had to find it first." Ryuk grinned, remembering L's expression as he'd flown away.

"It's still in the human world? Ah ha ha!" Zellogi slapped his bent knee with the hand that was not a hook and shook his head, the feathers of his headdress brushing Ryuk.

"Yeah. He hasn't even started looking for it yet!" Ryuk grimaced, continuing to stare into the human world. _He's just sitting at his computer_, Ryuk thought; _why's he taking so long?_ "He's probably trying to annoy me into finding it for him. I mean, he said he wanted his own Death Note – he kept going on and on about it. He even asked me to try and get one of you guys to go down there so he could convince you to give him one . . ."

"Is that why you were yelling for Midora?" Zellogi's head reared back, feathers rustling.

"Yeah. Not that it –"

"Ah ha ha ha ha!" Zellogi rolled onto his back, laughing uproariously. "You and Rem are the only two shinigami who have been to the human world in thousands of years! Just who does he think he is?"

"I know, right? I _told_ him there's no way a shinigami would go there just to challenge him, but he wanted me to try anyway – I only bothered because I thought it might be amusing."

"Midora was intrigued enough to start watching the human world more closely, but she thought you were trying to trick her. I doubt she would have been willing to part with her note – she's not that foolish." Pausing, Zellogi returned to his crouch. "What sort of 'challenge' did this human have in mind?"

Ryuk grinned and looked sidelong at his fellow shinigami. "He wanted to gamble with one of you."

Moments passed as Zellogi's jaw hung open. Laughter then erupted from the shinigami again, this time pitching him forward precariously close to the aperture. Ryuk wished idly that he would fall in, if only to give him a few minutes' peace. _Light's not doing anything either_, he thought, _but he's gotten out of these jams before._

"Ah, Ryuk." Zellogi seemed to be catching his breath. "If I had known _that_, I might even have been tempted."

"Really?" Ryuk was dubious.

"Yes, really. Not enough to go to the human world and gamble with my own Death Note of course, but it's an intriguing situation, and you know I love to gamble." Zellogi played with the skulls hanging on his belt.

Ryuk snorted. "It's not much of a gamble if you play it safe by staying up here."

The chuckle at the back of Zellogi's throat was almost a growl. "I love to gamble, but I love winning more. Pity we can't just bring him up here to toy with." He half-turned to Ryuk. "If you wanted Midora involved, why didn't you wait and tell her when you got here?"

"If I'd known I'd be back here so soon, I would have. She's avoiding me now anyway, so I'm stuck waiting for the humans to make a move."

"Well, I don't know why you're bothering – these humans seem to keep letting you down."

_Ain't it the truth_, Ryuk thought. "Eh, I dunno. It's fun to watch them annoy each other." Ryuk kept his eyes on the opening, on his subject. "And they're more interesting than you guys."

"Suit yourself." Zellogi stood and walked away, crunching sounds receding.

_Finally_, Ryuk thought. The temptation to just fly back to the human world for the apples alone was so strong that Ryuk nearly felt gravity increasing, pulling him down into the hole. But he had some pride, and plenty of curiosity. He just wasn't sure how much longer he could wait.

"I can't believe I might actually have to go back there before someone finds the damn Death Note," Ryuk mumbled to himself, jaw clenching. _L, what the hell are you up to, you shifty bastard?_

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Escape

His hands shook, but his movements were measured. Choosing, folding, placing – he was nearly done. _No point taking the laptop or cellphone_, he thought; _they'd be traced right to me_. Surveying the room, he decided to leave the photos behind too. _Only take the essentials – nothing distinct or personal, nothing to indicate I intended to leave_.

There were reasons he hated gambling, but he'd never had more reasons to hate it before the gamble he'd taken yesterday. The final card had turned for him when he'd awoken on a cold floor, finally seeing what kind of luck he'd had all this time. It wasn't good.

Pressing down to close the suitcase, the heretofore unused one that had waited at the back of his closet, Shimura pondered the magnitude of what he was doing. _There's no going back after this_, he realized. He was certain that the repercussions from their escapade with Amane would be severe. Having a special deal with L likely wouldn't help them – in fact, it could backfire on them, considering L already had reason to pay attention to them. _L probably already knows we did this_, Shimura thought, a shiver lancing his spine; _deal or not, he won't let us get away with it. My only hope is to slip through his fingers while he's focused on bigger fish, like Namikawa_.

"Hypocrite." Shimura caught his own eye in his reflection, the hoarseness of his voice surprising his ears as he prepared to leave the bedroom. He looked as tired as he felt, and somewhat disheveled, but for some reason the fear he felt did not seem to be stamped on his face. He supposed he felt resigned more than anything else.

He knew that he should stay and face the consequences of what he'd done, but his conversation with Namikawa the night before they'd put their plan into action stood out sharply in his mind. _"We are no more or less responsible than anyone else."_ – Namikawa's words rang like a damnation. _He won't be taking responsibility for his actions_, Shimura thought, mouth twisting, _and the rest of them are just as bad, if not worse. It would be just like Kida to throw us all under the bus for a new deal. If I confessed . . . I'd be the only one_. Shimura was willing enough to pay for his own crimes, but not for theirs as well. He flicked the switch with a finger and left the room in darkness.

The high-pitched hum in his ears meant that his blood pressure was going up, and he resisted the urge to confirm that he'd dumped all his meds into plastic baggies and packed them with everything else. Shimura knew that if he let himself check and re-check everything he worried about he'd never get out in time. Meds, clothes, cash, some food, pen and paper, official-looking ID – he had what he needed. Several lamps in his home were now set up with timers, and the TV was on at medium volume, a woman blathering about collector's items on the screen behind him. The message he'd left his assistant would likely ensure that his absence wouldn't be noted for some time.

Patting the pocket of the casual slacks he almost never wore, he confirmed that he had the key he'd need to gain access to the cargo ship. _Time to go_, he thought, taking a deep breath and heading for the front door. Shimura wondered what his sister would think of him using her gift to him as an escape vehicle. _This is probably not the kind of escapism she envisioned_, he thought, a sad smile gracing his face as he exited his home for the last time.

Though he would be in plain sight, he doubted that anyone, if they happened to be awake at this late hour, would recognize him zipping by on a pale green Vespa. Shimura decided in advance that he would enjoy the ride, to better honor the spirit of his sister's gift, and because he knew the long boat trip to Hong Kong would be less pleasant. He was on the threshold of a threshold, a whole world beyond it, and he dared not miss the moment, whether it was the first of many or his very last.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Bahaha – oh Misa and her epic plan to win. I've only ever seen Sachiko portrayed as a stereotypically warm mother figure, including in canon, so I thought I'd put a slightly different spin on that. People don't develop tendencies randomly – some traits are inborn, others are nurtured. I figured Light must have gotten his OCD and acting skills from somewhere, and it clearly wasn't his Dad . . . Also, I read a study several months ago that indicated intelligence level was linked, in part, to the X chromosome (basically, since females get two X's, any intelligence-level link would be averaged between mother and father, but since males get only one X, from their mothers, the link would be matrilineal only). I don't know how conclusive one study is, but I decided to play with that idea for the purposes of this fic.

Rem does not know where the Death Note is buried because she wasn't there when Light did that – she would remember where they met and exchanged Death Notes, but that's all. I really doubt that Light would have clued her in on that part of his plan, since he kept her in the dark about most of it. If she weren't so consumed by her obsession with Misa, maybe she'd be able to figure out where it is. We'll see. I couldn't resist checking in with Ryuk – he's so adept at throwing a wrench in the works, and I miss that. I think he does too.

Oh, Shimura – you have just taken a bigger risk with your life than you did when you went along with Namikawa. No wonder he hates to gamble. Then again, maybe a change of scenery is just what he needs.

Thanks for reading, you guys! More to come – soon, I hope.


	24. Straining Fulcrum

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, finding a way to meet Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairing; spoilers through end of series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 24: Straining Fulcrum

Sprawling on a Pin

"Wow, there sure is a whole lot of buzz on the net about this 'Parachute Octopus Parade,' but I can't find a show listing anywhere . . ."

"Matsuda, that's . . . not the best use of your time." Mogi chided gently, glad that Soichiro was currently out of earshot.

"I know." Matsuda sighed. "But there weren't any fingerprints on the casing of the camera we found, except for ours, and once we opened it and saw how damaged it was, well . . . let's just say the Chief didn't want my help on it anymore. I don't even know why we're bothering to process it at this point."

"I think he just needs something else to focus on right now."

Silence stretched between the two men as Mogi swallowed the last of his coffee. Neither of them looked at the many screens showing Light in confinement.

"So . . . it's really true? Light's really Kira?" Matsuda's voice sounded broken and faint.

Mogi kept his eyes on his empty mug. "Looks like it, yeah."

"But, how did –"

"I'd rather let Ryuzaki explain." Mogi cut Matsuda off. The past few hours, from the lockdown until now, had been some of the most uncomfortable in his life, and he hated putting his fellow officers off each time an explanation was demanded, but Mogi did not feel up to explaining it all to them. He was sure he would say the wrong thing. Though he now felt certain that Light was Kira, the 'solid proof' of this was not in his hands. He wasn't even positive that it was in L's hands, but Mogi trusted him to present the case against Light with more skill.

"I just wish it made more sense to me." Matsuda's brow was furrowed as he continued to idly access a succession of media websites. "I mean, I can totally understand why there'd be some rumor on the net about Misa being Hideki Ryuga's girlfriend – they've been filming that movie together, so I'm sure it's just publicity and stuff . . ."

"Um . . ." Mogi glanced at Matsuda sidelong.

"But the _Death Note_, everything about it – it's just so confusing! Maybe I read the rules wrong or something."

Mogi wondered where Watari was. He hoped L would have an explanation for that as well, but it seemed strange that L had returned without him. _How many things are going on that I don't even know about?_ he thought.

"What the – where is it?" Matsuda's voice carried from across the room.

Mogi looked up in surprise to see Matsuda standing over by the two couches, staring at the empty table between them. After a moment, it dawned on him. "Matsuda, it's –"

"No, it was right here! Did the shinigami take it?"

"Matsuda! It's OK – Ryuzaki has the Death Note."

"It's – wait, what?"

"Actually, I don't. But it is in a safe place."

Mogi and Matsuda looked over at L, who was padding in from the hallway, slouched as usual, hands in pockets.

"It's good to have you back, Ryuzaki." Relief was evident on Mogi's face.

"Ryuzaki! Welcome back! This is great – I'll call the Chief –"

"Belay that a moment, please." L interrupted Matsuda, stepping right up to the wall of screens. "Has he said anything, Mogi?" L stared directly at Light's image on the largest screen.

"Nothing that made sense," Mogi said, watching L.

"Hm. I'll want to look back over the recordings then." L promptly sat down and began accessing the newly stored surveillance files of Light's incarceration.

"Wait, why does that matter? If you have proof that Light's Kira, then that's all you need, isn't it?" Matsuda watched L as well.

"There is no such thing as too much proof, Matsuda. I believe I've said that before. Also . . ." L's fingers flew over the keyboard, scrolling through images. "Having a confession as well would be ideal."

"Well, he definitely didn't say anything like that, Ryuzaki. I would have told you right away if he had."

"Yes, Mogi, I'm sure that you would have. I am not searching for the confession itself, however – I am searching for the means by which to obtain it."

"But –"

"Using Light's own words against him should be quite effective, I believe." L did not blink, drinking in images until he saw what he wanted: lips moving.

"Ryuzaki!"

Both L and Mogi turned to Matsuda, eyes wide at his angry tone.

". . . Yes?" L waited.

"You can't just plow ahead like that without bringing us up to speed! We need to see the proof you have – you can't just keep us in the dark! Do you have any idea what the Chief is going through right now?" Matsuda's face was flushed as he caught his breath.

"I do." L said in a quiet voice as he mulled over his options. "Very well. Please contact him for me. I will begin when he arrives."

"Right away. I – thanks, Ryuzaki." Matsuda half-turned and reached for the desk phone, punching in an extension.

L's brow creased slightly as he returned his gaze to the screens, flitting between the live feed, where Light had an odd ragged grin, and the frozen recording on L's desktop monitor, where Light's mouth was forming a word. His fingers itched to press 'play,' but he restrained himself. _Did that bump on your head loosen anything, Light?_ L wondered. He knew it was possible that Light had a concussion, but he was glad that he had misled Mogi to think otherwise, especially now that the others were back. _Their sympathy would distract them_, he thought, _and I cannot afford to give Light any more advantages_. A phone receiver hitting its cradle shook him from his thoughts.

"He's on his way." Matsuda seemed mollified.

L allowed his eyes to roam over Matsuda. "Why . . . are you wearing that?"

"Oh, uh, this morning I kind of got maced by a nurse, but she didn't mean to, and then she brought –"

"Nevermind." L cut Matsuda off, eyes half-lidded. "I do not need to hear any more." He turned back to his computer, ignoring the other man's hurt expression. L wished that staring would be enough to extract a confession from Light – it had certainly worked on others before – but he knew that it would not, and wishing wouldn't make it so. _Too much time has been spent on this already_, L thought, _and too many lives as well_.

"He's not a bug on a pin for you to examine, Ryuzaki – he's a person." Matsuda grumbled quietly, now slouching in his chair with arms crossed.

"He is a murderer." L kept his tone placid. "I would have more respect for an insect." L heard Matsuda huff and Mogi sigh. He futilely hoped for fewer outbursts, since they ran counter to the necessary dispassionate analysis, but he knew he'd have to brace himself for more.

"Where is Watari?"

This was not the question L had expected to hear first in Soichiro's gruff voice, but he answered willingly. "He is on his way back here, but it may be some time before he arrives." L turned in his chair to regard Soichiro, who would not meet his eye. "Thank you for your patience, Mr. Yagami. I will begin now."

"I would like to see the flashdrive containing the evidence damning my son," Soichiro said in a steady voice.

"In a moment." L replied. "Evidence without context is meaningless. Earlier –"

"Ryuzaki!" Soichiro shouted, fists clenching reflexively.

"Please," L said softly, leaning forward, palms spread on his knees, until Soichiro finally made eye contact. "This is all very important, and I want to be as clear as possible. I know this has been a long ordeal – for all of us, but for you especially – and I do not want to make this any harder by obfuscating matters or giving incomplete information. I need you to bear with me."

Soichiro's eyes were limned in red, and his face was pale and marked with stubble as he swallowed. "Fine. Please continue."

"Thank you." L took a deep breath and straightened up slightly. "Earlier today – well, technically yesterday – Light Yagami entered the server room of these headquarters, taking care to avoid being seen on camera."

"Then how do you know he did that?"

"Because he was not successful in his avoidance – may I continue?" L's eyes flashed at Matsuda.

"Sorry . . ."

"Watari was able to see Light copying information from one of the servers onto a flashdrive, with which Light then attempted to leave the building. This is why Watari triggered the emergency lockdown mode."

"But what was on –"

"Matsuda!" Soichiro yelled.

"I'm getting to that," L continued. "Yesterday, or rather the day before, a recording was obtained of Light's conversation with Misa Amane, wherein he spoke of a 'back-up plan' to obtain an image of me to show her so that she could tell him my true name." L paused as the three men gasped. "_That_ is what he was doing in the server room, obtaining footage of me from the archive of surveillance recordings from within this building. This flashdrive," L held the slender object aloft, "will contain video images of me recorded by our own cameras – which, even if they did not mean certain death for me at the hands of Kira, would nonetheless be quite troublesome if released, considering the number of other criminals who also want me dead."

"Wait – I'm sorry, but . . . you knew this _yesterday?_" Matsuda's mouth hung open.

"Yes. Additional bugs were placed in the lobby after I consented to release Light and Misa from custody. Reducing my scrutiny of them allowed them to let their guards down, since they said these things where they assumed I could not hear. That is why I could not inform the rest of you about the continued and extended surveillance – any inadvertent leak would have alerted them and caused them to be more cautious. I also could not proceed by confronting Light with this information then, as he would likely have claimed that he was leading Misa on, pretending to be Kira to elicit a reaction from her in order to solve the case. I needed his actions to back up his statements."

"Misa told Light that she'd be able to see your true name?" Mogi's voice was hushed.

"Yes. She seemed quite eager about it, in fact." L maintained his neutral tone, opting not to get into any conjecture regarding what Light's original plan might have been – he needed the men to stay focused.

"But . . . if you'd been killed . . ." Matsuda trailed off.

"If I'd been killed, it would have been absolute proof that Light is Kira. It would have completely outstripped this flashdrive, an overheard conversation, and the words of a shinigami in terms of significance in closing this case."

"Ryuzaki." Soichiro's voice was low.

"Yes, Mr. Yagami?"

"Are you saying . . . that you have not yet viewed what's on the flashdrive?" The room suddenly seemed very still in the wake of Soichiro's question.

L waited a moment before answering, scanning the room without moving his eyes. "I have not." L watched as Mogi and Matsuda turned simultaneously to look at Soichiro while seeming to involuntarily move backwards in their chairs.

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are?" Soichiro stepped forward to advance on L. "You can't claim something is evidence if you haven't even examined it! You continue to condemn my son as Kira with no proof whatsoever – you told him yourself months ago that you _wanted_ him to be Kira! This is nothing more than a shameful attempt to justify your past actions at the expense of my son and the truth!"

"Will you believe the truth when I die?" L's voice was quiet in the echoing remains of Soichiro's shouting.

"If you die, it will be your own fault, _not_ my son's!" Soichiro was breathing heavily. The only other noise in the room above the whir of the computers was a dissonant humming from Light over the speakers.

"It will be my fault, yes," L said tonelessly, his right hand slipping from knee to ankle, "but then, we are all accountable for the choices we make."

"I demand that you let Light go – _now_." Soichiro stared at L, unblinking.

L narrowed his eyes. "Let's examine what's on the flashdrive first, shall we? And while I access that, we can listen to this." Reaching behind himself, L moved the mouse and clicked 'play.'

"What is –"

"I know you're watching, Ryuzaki!" Light's recorded voice rang out into the room. "Is this what you wanted? Is it? You've made a bigger mistake than you know . . ."

Three pairs of eyes snapped to the smaller screen behind L as he slowly spun his chair to face it with them. The strained silence rolled out for just over a minute as they watched the recording of Light, whose face had begun to twist into a grin.

"You think you've won . . ." Light's whisper was low and harsh. "But you will be punished by the god of the new world."

L heard Mogi gasp to his left, though the others seemed shocked into silence. Light's recorded voice began a strange loopy chuckle.

"This is creepy." Matsuda's voice was hushed.

"Had you heard this before, Mogi?" L continued to watch the recording.

"I – yeah, part of it. I missed the whispered part. I think that's when Aizawa called." Mogi's speech was halting.

"Oh yeah – I'm glad you got to talk to him, Mogi! I was really worried, but it sounds like he's OK." Some of the cheeriness had returned to Matsuda's voice. "And they even had a lead, which is –"

"Excellent news, to be sure." L cut in. "Mogi, how frequent were these outbursts, would you say?" L began scrolling back through the footage again.

"Not very. At first, he would just yell your name. He, uh, called you paranoid. Once he said something about disobeying rules, but . . . he never said anything like 'I'm Kira' or 'I'll kill you.' He was sure you were watching him."

"Mm. He never named anyone else?" L pressed his thumb against his lower lip, warping it.

"Not while I was here, no. There was some time between when the power came back on and when I got back here and started the surveillance recording."

"That is understandable. When did Light speak of rules?"

"It was earlier than the part we just watched." Mogi sounded certain. "By at least 40 minutes."

"Thank you." L scrolled back further, Light's occasional movements jerky from the speed. When he reached the next flurry of mouth movements, L paused the recording at what looked like the start. He rolled his chair over to the next computer, popping the flashdrive into a USB port before rolling back. L clicked 'play.'

"This is wrong, Ryuzaki. It's wrong, and you know it. You've disobeyed the rules of . . . this new world." Light's head hung forward, hair falling over the metal blinder, his laughter low in his throat. "You think you're above the law, but you're not. You're no better than a common criminal . . ."

"Interesting." L clicked 'pause' again, his eyes flicking to the live feed and back to the frozen image of Light.

"Even if he isn't Kira, he sure makes it sound like he's on Kira's side." Matsuda's voice had a faraway sound to it. "I mean, that's what that 'god of the new world' stuff means, right? Plus, first he calls you a criminal, and then later he says you'll be punished? That's definitely something Kira would say."

"Hearing my son speak this way . . ." Soichiro trailed off for a moment, expression haggard. "It's disturbing. It certainly implies that his thoughts are more sympathetic to Kira than he had led us to believe. However," Soichiro looked pointedly at L, "this is still inconclusive. None of this proves that Light is Kira. Even if that drive is filled with images of you, it would only prove that he believed Amane was the second Kira, and . . . it could also make him accessory to attempted murder, had he given it to her. Which is horrible enough as it is."

"Mr. Yagami –"

"No." Soichiro cut L off. "You were right to confine Light based on this evidence, but your proof is not as solid as you led us to believe. Unless that flashdrive contains evidence showing that the 13 Day Rule is false, or an actual video of Light writing names in the Death Note, you haven't proven anything."

"I . . . need more time. If I told you why now, you might try and . . . change things. I know this is difficult, but I am asking for your patience." L did not dare tell them more. _Too much is at stake now to risk further resistance_, he thought.

"Change things . . . ?" Matsuda seemed confused.

"I would like to speak to my son now."

"May I speak to him first?" L looked at Soichiro, who sighed deeply.

"Yes." Soichiro sat heavily in a chair, wrists falling onto knees.

"Thank you." L pressed the button that allowed his voice to be heard by Light in the other room. "You've been quiet for some time now, Light. Are you tired?"

Light's head swung back, and he rested it against the metal slab, the blinder clanking against it, his lips pulling back from his teeth in a sneer. "Of course not – I'm enjoying your hospitality as usual, Ryuzaki." Light licked his lips. "It took you long enough to respond. I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?"

"Not at all. You've said some interesting things, though nothing I felt would benefit from a response at the time."

"You're not going to get me to confess to something I didn't do, Ryuzaki – you should know that by now."

"I understand. However, I am curious to hear more about what these rules of the 'new world' are. Would you care to enlighten me?"

There was a grinding noise as Light shook his head, still resting against the slab. "We are all subject to rules, Ryuzaki, and the world is changing all the time. It's nice to know you've been listening to me after all. I was beginning to think you'd run away."

"You know I wouldn't do that, Light. And you didn't answer the question. I wonder who this 'god of the new world' is – perhaps _he_ can answer me . . ."

Light's grin was broad, if lopsided. "If you want answers from a god, Ryuzaki, I'd say prayer is your best bet. Good luck with that."

"I could not conscience praying to any god who rules by manipulating others with fear, let alone a fool who pretends to be a god." L thought he detected a slight faltering in Light's smile. "But a god is nothing without a goddess, I suppose, and unfortunately for you, you have neglected Misa Amane for far too long." L leaned forward as Light's body seemed to jerk. L watched, waiting.

"Is – is that why I'm here? Ryuzaki, I don't know what Misa could have said to you to make you tie me up like this, but . . . I haven't done anything wrong! The way you threw me in here – you can't be surprised that I yelled at you. Anyone would do that! I'm sure there's an innocent explanation. What exactly did Misa say to you?"

"I'm sure you understand why I cannot share that information with you, Light."

Light exhaled sharply, head lolling against metal as he presented his profile. "Oh, I understand. It's because you're bluffing." Light grinned again. "What was it you said to Rem earlier? 'If you're going to lie, be more convincing'? Nice try, Ryuzaki."

L sighed and pressed the button again. "Goading me is not going to convince me to tell you –"

"Light, stop this!" Soichiro grabbed the mike from L, whose eyes darted toward the older man and then back to his son onscreen.

". . . Dad?" The smirk faded from Light's face.

"Listen to me, son – we already know what you said to Amane. We know you asked her to get Ryuzaki's true name by showing her a photo of him. You've got to stop pretending you know nothing of this and cooperate if you want to be shown any mercy!" Soichiro's hand, clutching the mike, was shaking slightly.

"Wait – Dad? Dad, are you still there?" Light's voice sounded agitated. Soichiro turned to L, confusion on his face.

"I let up on the button after you said 'You've got to stop pretending.' I should have done so sooner." L allowed displeasure to show on his face in complete contrast to how he felt. _Let's see how Light wriggles out of that_, L thought, focusing once more on the big screen. "And I must caution all of you not to tell him that Misa is in the building. Is that understood?" L glanced back quickly at the three men to see them nodding, faces pale.

"Dad! This is all a misunderstanding! I – I was investigating Misa, that's all! That's why I wanted to stay close to her, keep seeing her. I thought that . . . even though she can't be the second Kira, she must have some _connection_ to Kira. The hairs and fibers found on the tapes the second Kira sent proved that much. I was trying to help!"

L held out a hand, not looking at Soichiro, who reluctantly relinquished the mike to him. Replacing the mike on the desk, L pressed the button again. "That was disappointingly predictable, Light. Your lies become less and less credible. I see no reason to continue this exchange, so I'll leave you to your thoughts." L released the button, noting Light's sour expression, and rolled back over to the other computer.

"You _know_ I'm not Kira! The 13 Day Rule proved it! You've got to stop _doing_ this!" Light strained against the straps that bound him as a drop of sweat traced along his neck.

L tapped a few keys to bring up some information onscreen. "Hmm." L rolled back to his own computer and pressed the button once more. "By the way, Light, where is the other flashdrive?"

Light began giggling, the odd sound gathering momentum before trailing off into a high-pitched sigh. L noticed the other men shifting uneasily, the color draining from Soichiro's face. Light threw his head back, sending another sharp clang through the speakers, grin still splitting his face. "I have nothing more to say to _you_, L."

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Strung Out in Heaven's High

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

The scrape of a shoe was the only reply, sound echoing strangely in the closed space. Flashlights alone illuminated the gloom. Outside, someone coughed.

"I see what you're seeing. I'm just doubtful that we'll get any usable DNA to test from any of this." Rester gestured at the debris.

Grimacing, Aizawa continued to scan the floor from a crouched position. "You might be right about that, but we have to try." The beam of light crossed and re-crossed the area.

Rester reflected that even if it had been daytime, the open door would not have afforded them much more visibility. Only he and Aizawa had entered. "The partial palm print on the gas can might help, if they keep that kind of thing on file."

"Is that standard?" Aizawa's raised eyebrow was more audible than visible.

"Not that I know of, but then again, I'm not FBI." Rester sighed, thinking that it would have been nice to have an agent like Misora to help solve her own case. "We're going to have to take all this with us anyway, so –"

"Exactly. That's why I'm looking through it now, before we lose access to some lab."

Trying to keep his breathing shallow as he crouched next to the police detective, a man he'd researched and followed before deciding he wasn't Kira and effectively coercing him to help, Rester wished in retrospect that he'd been able to find a less jarring way to bring him into his investigative team. Though Aizawa seemed less paranoid than his partner, he always seemed to be holding something back. Rester resolved to be patient. _Trust takes time_, he thought, _and my mission here may be concluded soon anyway_. "What are you hoping to find?"

"Something. Just . . . _one_ thing . . ." Aizawa grunted, shifting position, seeming to hold his breath as fine particles rose lazily around them. He resumed the sweeping motion with his flashlight, the intensity of his expression coming occasionally into view.

Death was not unfamiliar to Rester. He'd faced it many times himself, and seen others die – some via satellite feed, some through the sight of a rifle, some right next to him, fighting with or against him. Death was never kind, never dignified. He'd gotten past the shock of it a long time ago, but it still affected him. Whatever the cause, whatever the reason, whatever may or may not come later, death was the end. Death was real. And death was all around them as they crouched and stared and wondered. He wanted to believe that resolving Misora's disappearance, telling her parents what had happened, would make some kind of difference. If they could gain some understanding, some closure, they could move on with their lives. _Death is easiest for the dead_, Rester thought, pushing their faces from his mind.

A tiny bolt of light stabbed the air between them as Rester's eyes met Aizawa's. Rearing back, Aizawa swept his flashlight back toward the same spot.

"What's wrong?" Rester asked.

"Hang on . . ." Aizawa lowered his flashlight slightly and held it fast. "There." He leaned forward, trying to keep his feet still. Ignoring what he was putting his hand into, Aizawa reached in and extracted something.

"What is it?"

Aizawa turned the misshapen thing gently between thumb and forefinger. "Human nature wins again." He looked at Rester, his grin at odds with their surroundings. "No woman truly in love with her fiancé would remove her engagement ring, even if he was dead and she was committing suicide." Aizawa held the object aloft. "The gold's melted, so any engraving there might have been is lost, but I'll bet the cut, clarity, and color of the diamond is traceable."

"Spoken like a man who's bought one," Rester said. "That should help identify the remains – good job."

Standing cautiously, knees popping, Aizawa tried to avoid hitting his head on the sloped walls. "I think that was almost a smile – you're slipping, Rester."

A slightly more pronounced smile grew on Rester's face as he turned to exit the conical structure ahead of Aizawa. Though the surrounding building had collapsed long ago, its remnants protruding from the ground, a fossil of its former self, the kilns it had housed were still standing. Aizawa emerged, taking a deep breath of cool night air, glad to be free of the ash-laden tomb.

"Find what you were looking for?" Ide looked sidelong at Aizawa.

"Yeah. The gold's melted and covered in ash, but the diamond –"

"Great, then can we get going? This place gives me the creeps." Ide looked around, seeming to shudder, and Aizawa noticed he was no longer holding the bag.

"Wait – who has the bone fragments?" Aizawa frowned.

"Got 'em." John jutted his chin in acknowledgement and held the evidence bag aloft. Shards of pelvis, chunks of skull, and several other large pieces, including a nearly intact femur, had been removed from the pile after photos had been taken of the grim scene. They wanted to keep the brittle chunks from breaking down further, and they hoped there might be marrow left to test for DNA. The condition of the bones indicated that the heat must have been very high, but they hoped it was possible that the fire hadn't destroyed all traces of DNA.

Pulling out a smaller evidence bag, Aizawa dropped the melted ring into it and sealed it before turning to look at the tall brick structure bound by iron bands. There were two of them, side by side, but the other one had cracked, allowing in moisture. The one they'd found remains in was still tight as a drum. "Would Misora have known this place was here?"

"It's possible." Rester stepped next to him. "This place would already have been abandoned when she was a little girl." Staring up at the massive kiln, Rester added, seemingly as an afterthought, "Her mother makes pottery. Misora may have been familiar with kilns and how to use them."

"This is a Sevres kiln. I didn't know there were any in Japan." Everyone turned to gape at Tetsuo in surprise. "What? My sister takes pottery courses in college. She had to take a test on kilns recently and kept going on and on about it with her friends . . ."

"Well, at least now we know you _can_ talk," Ide said, eyebrows raised.

Tetsuo frowned slightly and turned away, lips pressed together.

"If these are her remains . . . she might have known how to use the kiln and how hot they can get when fired." Aizawa tilted his head. "What about fuel? She would have needed a lot to generate the right amount of heat."

"There's plenty of wood here from the old building. Not all of it is rotten." Rester said, his voice thoughtful. "Plus, she wouldn't have been using it exactly as a kiln. Clay doesn't burn, but a body does. She would have known –"

"Look, whoever did this obviously knew how to burn a body, since that's what we're looking at." Ide sounded impatient. "Do you think her teeth are intact in there somewhere?"

"They should be." Rester nodded. "The heat was enough to break the bones down, though, so odds are they're scattered, separate from the jaw pieces. They'll be collected with the rest of it."

"Is it actually possible she could have done this by herself?" Aizawa continued to stare at the kiln.

"Closing the door behind her would have been tricky . . ." Rester moved toward the still-open door, aiming his flashlight and scrutinizing the edges. "If her fingers were small enough to get into this crevice, she could have pulled it closed . . . most of the way, at least." Abruptly, Rester dropped to a crouch.

"What is it?" Aizawa approached as Rester stood.

"Could be nothing, but . . ." Rester used a gloved hand to place a small, rust- and ash-covered piece of metal up against the edge of the door. "If she'd tied a rope around this and put it in this crevice, she could have pulled the door all the way closed, just like we found it. I knew I heard something fall when we opened this up." Rester examined the spot where door would meet wall. "Yeah, there's a scrape right here that matches. Tetsuo, I need the camera again."

Crunching over rubble, Tetsuo crossed to Rester and handed him a camera with a nod. Aizawa watched as Rester took several photos of the wall, the door, and the metal object. He'd lost count of how many photos had already been taken of the site, most of which had been focused on the previously untouched interior of the kiln, scattered bone jutting from ashes. Aizawa hoped it would be enough. He knew that they might have enough to prove that Misora had died here, but the connection to Kira was still tenuous. Proving someone could have done something wasn't the same as proving someone _had_ done something.

Glad of the gloves on his hands, Aizawa tried not to think of the ashes coating them, and much of his clothing. "Here, let me bag that too." Aizawa held open another plastic evidence bag.

"Thanks." Rester dropped the metal piece in.

Holding it up at eye level, Aizawa peered at it, flashlight spearing the bag. Flat metal bent in the middle with notches on both sides at one end forming something like a square arrowhead. As he turned the bag in his hand, he saw that the piece formed an L and shuddered without knowing why.

"John, Tetsuo, let's get this stuff back to the car. We need to get one of the bigger bags out of the trunk and bring it back here anyway." Rester took the two evidence bags from Aizawa. "You two mind waiting here, guarding the site until we get back?"

"No problem." Aizawa nodded.

"Aren't you worried we're gonna run off?" Ide folded his arms.

"Not really. Several times today, you guys could have done that, but you didn't. You've earned my trust, even if I haven't earned yours." Rester turned to walk after his two men. "We'll be back in a minute."

The shuffle and pop of their receding footsteps through the debris carried back across the broken landscape. Tired as he was, Aizawa found himself wishing for dawn, or at least the coffee to help him get there.

"You really think the Chief's son is Kira?"

Ide's hushed voice jolted Aizawa. "You saw the same footage I did, Ide. I know it's not conclusive, but I can't rule him out as a suspect. Too many things just don't add up. Even if he's not Kira . . . he could still be involved somehow." Aizawa wondered how L would react to his change of heart, considering how vehemently he'd argued with him. "It's not something I wanted to believe, but . . . this isn't the first time Light's been under suspicion."

Ide snorted. "Lemme guess – L suspected him?"

Aizawa frowned, looking toward Ide's half-turned form under the darkened sky. "Yeah," he admitted.

"What a coincidence."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Haven't you figured it out?" Ide's voice was sharp. "There's only one person it _could_ be! Who's had access to information on criminals worldwide? Who's been keeping track of all the evidence on Kira and controlling the investigation all along? It's L! It's _always_ been L!"

Aizawa stared at Ide's half-hidden face, thunderstruck – before bursting out laughing. "You really had me going there for a minute, Ide – very funny."

"I'm _serious_."

"You're – what?" Aizawa brought his flashlight up, catching Ide's face in its beam and causing him to wince.

"Cut it out, dammit!" Ide blocked the light with his left hand.

"Sorry, it's just – that's the craziest theory I've ever heard, and I work with Matsuda." Aizawa shook his head, lowering his flashlight to the ground between them.

"Yeah, well, it would explain a lot."

"Ide . . . not only would it not explain anything, it would raise a lot more questions. Like, for example, why the hell would L investigate crimes he's committing?"

"To throw people off by making it seem like he's investigating when he's really covering stuff up. He controls what information you get. Being in charge of the Task Force means he directs what you guys investigate. And Light's on the team too, working with L. That's how Light's involved – running errands for L, who's secretly Kira. It makes total sense to me." Ide, arms still crossed, kicked a rock.

"Wow." Aizawa rubbed his forehead. "Sounds like you've been thinking about this a lot."

"Yeah. It was sort of a theory I had before you came back to the NPA, but the pieces didn't fall into place until we saw the tape of Light talking to Misora."

Aizawa wasn't sure where to begin. "You've . . . _met_ Light, right?"

"Uh-huh. Smart, seemed like a good kid."

"Does he seem like the type who'd be willing to 'run errands' for anyone?" It dawned on Aizawa that Ide probably couldn't see his raised eyebrow.

"For his Dad, sure. Wasn't that why he was there the same day Misora was? He'd probably be willing to do that kind of thing for anyone he respects."

"I'm not sure I can say he respects L . . ."

"I like him better already." Ide kicked another rock.

Aizawa rubbed the back of his neck, wishing that he was at home cozily tucked next to his wife. "Another thing, L doesn't control all the information we get – we get reports on deaths from our own sources, through the NPA and the ICPO. If he was actually controlling _those_ sources, he wouldn't need a sham investigation team, he'd just control everything directly." Aizawa sighed. "I think you just don't like L and have dreamed up this wild theory to justify it."

"Better than burying my head in the sand." Ide said with a huff.

"You know, if I were more like L, I'd probably argue against your logic point-by-point and give you percentages on the likelihood of which parts of your theory are right or wrong. But I'm not. As important as it is to reason through a theory and have _evidence_ to back it up," Aizawa glared at Ide, "it's not really the way I solve cases. I trust my _gut_. I don't like L – I've never liked his methods – but in working this case, he's earned my respect. And even if he hadn't . . . my gut just tells me he's not the guy. L is not Kira. Light . . ." Aizawa sighed. "I don't know."

Shuffling, rustling, and scraping sounds caused the two men to look over. "Oh good, our buddies are back." Ide's sneer was audible.

"Would you at least keep this crap to yourself?" Aizawa spoke out of the side of his mouth as he watched the other men approach, their flashlight beams angled down before them like empty dogleashes.

"Whatever."

Though a part of him wondered if anyone would be able to tell if L were really Kira, Aizawa trusted his gut. _There's no way Ryuzaki would bother gathering a Task Force to work with him directly on the case, especially for so long_, he thought; _he obviously hates dealing with us. If Ide knew L the way we do, he'd understand_.

Rester and Tetsuo approached the kiln with shovels and a broom as John held the large evidence bag open. Aizawa and Ide watched, their flashlights joining the others in illuminating the area. Pulling at the glove on his right hand, Aizawa asked his gut what to do next. The scrape of metal against rock was his only answer.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: My chapters usually have more sections than this, but these were two biggies, so they sort of deserved their own. Light may be getting to the end of his rope, but so is L. It's wrenching, though fascinating, to watch them argue. And Naomi Misora's fate is revealed, although the test results will take awhile. It's so annoying when TV shows make it look like DNA testing takes a few minutes or something, because seriously, that shit takes days to weeks or more, depending on the quality of the sample and how well-staffed the lab is, etc. I think this is the first time I've actually written from Rester's PoV, even though it was just a glimpse. He's got some similarities to Mogi (pragmatic, calm), but a totally different perspective.

Another thing I can tell you is . . . I've finished handwriting this, so what's left is mainly revising and editing. Which means I'm back to my previous update speed (unless something annoying happens, like . . . getting hit by a meteorite, or my computer blowing up *knocks wood*). I just did something in the last section of the last chapter of this fic that kinda blew my own mind. If that sounds like bragging, it isn't, it's just . . . interesting the way the subconscious works. The ending for this was no more planned than Ryuk's turnabout a couple of chapters back, but there was a connection that was in place from the start – I just didn't realize it until I closed the loop. The final chapter will be #28, so we've got just a few more to go. I am not giving away any spoilers (I hate those), but I hope you'll stay with me until then.

As always, thank you to everyone who's been reading, and reviewing – you guys are awesome! ^_^


	25. There Knits a Bolder One

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, finding a way to meet Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairings; spoilers through end of series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 25: There Knits a Bolder One

Lockstitch

The yelling had stopped several minutes ago, but it still seemed to thicken the air. Mogi felt more reluctant to speak than usual and wondered if he'd made the wrong choice in trusting L. The flashdrive they'd taken from Light had contained a copy of Mogi's database of death and a folder full of files on Yotsuba, but no images of L. Combined with the fact that all other data on the case had been lost (at least as far as the rest of the Task Force knew), including the audio of Light's damning conversation with Misa, it had been quite a letdown. Soichiro had been furious.

L's demeanor following the revelation and subsequent outburst had been his usual calm, but Mogi could almost feel the frustration radiating from his hunched form as they watched Soichiro unbind his son. Matsuda had willingly run off to get a change of clothing for Light, which was now in a stack on the floor of the interrogation room, as L's conditions for Light's release had included not being allowed to wear or have access to anything he'd been wearing during his attempt to escape, as well as not leaving the main HQ level. Mogi wondered if there really was another flashdrive somewhere, or if L was getting desperate, throwing new theories into the mix just for distraction's sake. He hoped L knew what he was doing.

"Ryuzaki . . ." Mogi spoke reluctantly, watching Soichiro steady his son onscreen as Light pulled the hospital gown over his head, skin gleaming under harsh lights.

"Yes, Mogi?" L did not turn around, intent on the screen.

"Should I . . . check the elevator?"

"Yes, and quickly."

"Got it." Mogi took a deep breath and walked to the elevator. He pressed the down arrow and stood facing the doors, waiting. Matsuda rounded the corner, returning from the interrogation room at the far end of the hall.

"Sorry that took awhile. I wasn't really sure what – whoa, what is it, Mogi?"

"I . . . need to do something." Mogi didn't want to say that he needed to check the elevator shaft for a second flashdrive hidden by Light – he wanted to trust Matsuda, but wasn't sure the other man would be able to keep the information a secret, and there wasn't much time to explain. The elevator chimed its arrival.

"Can I help?"

"Maybe you should stay with Ryuzaki, in case –"

"That's alright. Help Mogi if you can, Matsuda. And Mogi," L looked over his shoulder in a smooth swift motion, "thank you."

Mogi nodded and turned back to the elevator and Matsuda, considering how best to proceed.

"What do we need to do?" Matsuda said as Mogi pressed the button to open the elevator doors again.

Rubbing his chin with a knuckle, Mogi decided that the approach that made the most sense was to stop the elevator two floors below HQ level, where it had been when Light had fallen in. "OK, I need you to get in and take the elevator two floors down and stop it. Lock it in place with the emergency button. Keep it there until I call you."

"And then what?"

"Just stay there until I call you."

"Wait – that's it?" Matsuda seemed crestfallen.

"Yeah. I need to climb into the shaft and search it quickly, make sure that . . . nothing fell down there. It'll take too long if we both take the elevator down and then walk back up."

"Well, OK . . ." Matsuda entered the elevator, watching his feet.

"Thanks, Matsuda." Mogi gave him a sad smile as the doors came between them. After a few seconds of mechanical humming, the elevator stopped. A plaintive alarm began to sound, much quieter than the ones that had been ringing during the lockdown hours earlier. _I guess it's showtime_, Mogi thought, propping open the doors and climbing into the opening.

If they heard the elevator's alarm in the interrogation room, they did not react to it. Soichiro was admonishing his son for "needlessly" drawing suspicion to himself and possibly contributing to a felony. As he slipped on new clothing, the unforgiving glare of lights hemming him in, Light was uttering platitudes and excuses to his father, who seemed to believe him. It was completely disgusting to L, who was starting to share Rem's dim view of the human race.

The likelihood of another flashdrive being in the elevator shaft was approximately 23% by L's estimation, possibly lower, but ruling it out as a hiding place would help narrow down the list of potential hiding places. More valuable was the knowledge that Mogi still trusted him enough to help. _I will not forget his loyalty_, L thought, scribbling on a slip of paper as he kept an eye on the screens.

When they'd searched Light's clothing and the items in his possession, neither he nor Mogi had found anything suspicious beyond the single flashdrive, but L couldn't rule out the possibility that something, some clue, might still remain among them. The box containing these items was waiting for him to go through again, just to be sure, in his room now. _I cannot let Light have access to these items, even if the likelihood of there being any pertinent evidence within them is only 3%_, L thought; _there's certainly no second flashdrive there, unless he dismantled it_ . . . _which is unlikely_. L hoped he'd have the time to examine them later.

Though other hiding places were possible, the two other most likely places where Light might have hidden another flashdrive were back in the server room (53%) and on his person somehow (5%). _It would be just like Light to be so bold as to leave the real flashdrive hidden in the server room_, L thought, _or somewhere in plain sight, and then pretend to escape, knowing he'd be cleared later and could go back for it. Good thing the surveillance files are too large to be sent by phone, or he wouldn't have had to escape to send one_. L was itching to go to the server room immediately, but he stuck to his resolution to wait until Light went there so he could catch him in the act.

L felt that it was far less likely that Light had secreted the flashdrive on himself. There were few places he could have put it for it to have escaped notice when L and Mogi had undressed his unconscious form, and given the potential health risks of either swallowing or inserting a rectangular metal object, as well as Light's apparent squeamishness regarding bodily functions, L considered the scenario unlikely. He wished that there was a metal detector on the same floor as HQ – bringing Light downstairs to the garage entrance just to run him through one could be too risky. _Perhaps Watari has a metal detector wand stored in the building_, L thought; _I will have to ask him when he returns_. L knew he'd need to watch Light closely. The likelihood of there _not_ being a second flashdrive with surveillance footage of L on it was less than one percent.

Soichiro's hand was on Light's shoulder as he spoke earnestly to his son in the other room. L listened carefully to make sure that Soichiro kept his word not to tell Light of Misa's presence in the building. Light nodded and managed to look contrite, though his responses seemed as hollow as ever to L. _If I lose this battle_, he thought, _can they win the war?_ L exhaled, pinching his lip, thinking of two orphaned boys on the other side of the world. _They should not have to finish this for me – they will have their own burdens to bear. If they must_ . . .

Ringing. L blinked at the phone, then reached for it, expecting Watari. "Yes?"

In the other room, Light and Soichiro made soft promises in weary voices, nodding at each other as if in understanding. They moved to embrace, locking together, a circuit completing.

As he listened, L's eyes widened slightly. "I see . . ." A metallic scraping noise behind him told him that Mogi was emerging from the elevator shaft and removing the metal bar he'd used to prop the doors. "That is excellent news. Yes . . . I realize that. Where will they be processing it?" L was dimly aware of some murmuring in the background and noticed when the elevator alarm ceased. "Understood. No, actually, I think you should return here, if they will allow it. If – ah. Good. Yes, of course. Actually, there is a car at St. Luke's, if you can get to it. Hm, perhaps, but you could – hm. If that's the case, then by all means. Well . . . I'm not prepared for that, but it could be advantageous for him to remain nearby, assuming that –"

Footsteps indicated that Mogi had moved to L's side, and he looked up at the burly man, who gave a firm side-to-side shake of his head, expression grim. Unsurprised, L nodded once. "Yes, that should be fine. It's been a long day for all of us, so I won't keep you long. See you soon." L hung up.

There was a soft ding behind them. "Who was that?"

"That was Aizawa." L said, glancing at Mogi. "He and Ide are on their way here now. Apparently they and their former kidnappers parted on good terms and were able to obtain some pertinent evidence."

"What? Aizawa and Ide are coming back?" Matsuda bounded across the room. "That's terrific!"

"I quite agree." L steepled his fingers in front of his face, watching the screen as Soichiro and Light nodded at each other before turning toward the door of the interrogation room.

"What evidence did they find?" Mogi asked, seeming more wary than hopeful.

"Well, they are having an independent lab process the results, but . . . it might be better if Aizawa explains when he gets here." L finished changing which surveillance feeds were shown on the monitors, making sure that Misa's room would now only be viewable from Watari's station and his own secret one in his room, just as her empty apartment still was.

"Aw – do we really have to wait?" Matsuda seemed about to pout.

"If Aizawa explains their findings in his own words, it is less likely that such findings will be dismissed as _biased_." L allowed the slightest tinge of bitterness into his voice and saw by the other two men's expressions that they seemed to understand his predicament. Soichiro would be in no mood to hear L speak of new evidence against Kira, particularly if that evidence implicated Light. Coming from Aizawa, however, the evidence at least had the chance of being considered.

The soft patter of two sets of footsteps approaching from the hallway sounded deceptively soothing, their arrival at HQ a calm finality. L did not turn around.

"Um, hey Chief, hey Light . . ." Matsuda awkwardly greeted father and son as they entered the room. "Are you feeling OK?"

"I'm fine now, Matsuda, but thanks for asking." Light's dulcet tones permeated the air, no pain to be heard in it despite his slight limp. L remained still, watching reflections.

"Did we miss anything?" Weariness suffused Soichiro's voice, temporarily blotting out the anger.

"Oh yeah, we just heard from –"

"Watari is still on his way back." L interrupted Matsuda. "And I just received a call from Aizawa." L spun slowly in his chair to face them, his expression stony. "He and Ide have been released by their kidnappers, and Aizawa will be here within the hour."

"Finally. Good news." Some of the tension seemed to leave Soichiro as he sighed. "What did he say?" Soichiro looked in L's direction, but not quite into his eyes.

"He said that he had information to share with us when he arrives." L's tone was clipped, and as he could not catch Soichiro's gaze, he caught his son's. Light's eyes seemed to smolder with rage, their amber hue almost red across the span of the room as he stared through his lashes at L, not even bothering to hide his smirk. L maintained his slack and somewhat sullen expression. He knew that he could mess with Light's mind now, make him think he knew something that Light did not, but L needed Light to feel overconfident. There were only so many cards left to play – unless he could get Light to give him one more. Even one could turn the game.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Countercurrent Exchange

Floating out of a stable of seahorses, she looked up and saw a gimlet moon wink and waver through the sapphire sea. She swam toward it, intrigued but unhurried. A muffled splash drew her eye – a radio drifted toward her, cord trailing behind it like a tail, somehow broadcasting under water. She moved to meet it, straining to hear.

". . . happens sometimes. Luckily, the swelling seems to have abated and possibly even receded somewhat."

"How long before she wakes up?"

"Hard to say. Could be in a few minutes, or a few hours, or a few days. Even if she wakes sooner rather than later, she's in no condition to leave anytime soon. We'll need to monitor her for any additional trauma, keep her vitals steady."

"Uh, 'additional trauma'?"

"Yes. Sometimes with injuries like these, the patient will suffer a stroke later, for example. The chance of that is relatively low, but if she's here, we'd be able to mitigate the effects quickly. Response time is critical if something like that happens. Just try and be patient, Agent Amberson."

"Just . . . call me Tom. And thanks, Doc."

"Sure thing, Tom. Is she . . . more than just a co-worker, by the way?"

"I'm afraid that's confidential information."

Men laughing, the sound breaking in waves above her. The radio kept sinking, drifting too far below her to hear anymore, and she swam, fingers combing through water. She knew she'd reach air soon, but she did not hurry. The moon winked at her once more before sliding behind a cloud and cloaking her in darkness.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Stitching Clay

"Are you sure?" The darkened livingroom was quiet around him, and it felt wrong to speak, as though sound was a violation of a pact he'd made with it. The room seemed to sigh, and he looked up to see the shadow of a branch gesture, waving him away. He wanted to sit, but couldn't stand the thought of comfort.

"How long before we'll know?" He continued to pace, bare feet on cool wood. "Yes, I understand. No, no – I was up anyway," he lied.

Moonlight glanced off the glass of the coffee table, and for a moment, he thought he saw her face. He felt the familiar clench in his heart, the one that seemed to thread through his whole body, cinching him up, making him fear the next breath he took – not because it might be his last, but because it would be another in a sequence that had gone on for too long already.

"It's fine. I . . . appreciate everything you've done for us. I will. Goodnight." He pressed the button to end the call and set his phone in the charger, marveling that his hands could still shake after all this time. Circling the room, he touched the curtains, pulling them to close any gaps. He stopped where he usually did, by the framed photo he found himself lifting. Staring into her eyes, he thought _We do not need ghosts when we haunt ourselves_. He was tempted to light the candle and fill the room with the scent of sweet orange, her favorite, but he knew now was not the time. Walking softly, he returned to the bedroom, hand out to feel his way there.

Rustling greeted him as he closed the door. "Was that Jack?"

"No. I wouldn't call Penber at this hour." He sat on the bed, rubbing one foot against the other, wondering if they would ever meet the father of their daughter's fiancé, or if they ever should.

"I know someone texted you, dear. I heard the chime."

He turned toward her voice, swinging his legs up and under the covers. "I thought you were sleeping better now."

"I am, but you know I've always been a light sleeper. Are you going to tell me what it was about?" His wife's voice was gentle.

_What should I tell her?_ he wondered. _The things they found could all point down another wrong path – she shouldn't have to lose more sleep over mere theories_. He decided it would be better to wait until they had some results, even if it took a few weeks. "Carter said they had a new lead they're working on. There are some things they need to confirm before they can tell us any more than that."

"I see." Her voice sounded sad, but held no accusation. "They keep telling us that."

"Hopefully this will be the last time." He moved close to her and felt her turn. Encircling her with an arm, he felt her press against him, warmth blossoming along his ribcage.

Their heartbeats making a harmony of rhythm, he tried to reach a state of greater calm. _Whether I can rest or not, she needs her sleep_, he thought. _I can at least give her that_. His breathing gradually slowed as he stared at a ceiling he could not see, images of fire and ash raging in his head. Kanichi Misora kept his thoughts to himself, sheltering the woman he loved from the horror that might have consumed their daughter.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Counter Encounter

No one seemed to have anything to say. The hour alone could not account for their reticence, and the tension was palpable. There were things to be done, however, and new possibilities to look forward to now. Perhaps the push and pull of the case was finally taking its toll, stealing their energy even as triumph felt closer than ever. _I guess they just don't know it yet_, he thought. Light suppressed a smile and stood.

"Everything alright, son?" Soichiro looked up from where he sat slumped on a couch.

"Yeah, Dad. I just need to use the restroom." Light moved as smoothly as he could manage, favoring his twisted ankle.

"Do you need any help?"

"_Dad_." Light grimaced. "I'm fine, I was just . . . _in_ there for awhile, so I need to go." Light glared at the back of L's head, daring him to speak.

"Of course, son." Soichiro looked away, swinging his gaze to where Mogi stood next to L.

Light exited HQ, glancing behind him once as he entered the hallway. Mogi had started walking in his direction. Pretending not to notice, Light continued, but slowed his walk.

"What is it, Mogi?" Soichiro's voice carried from HQ down the hall.

"Uh, nothing, Chief. I need to use the restroom as well." Mogi sounded somewhat embarrassed.

"Mogi . . . we've worked together too long for you to lie to me." Soichiro sounded tired. "You've been watching my son for hours now – let the boy have 5 minutes of peace. He isn't going anywhere."

"Alright, Chief," came Mogi's disheartened reply.

Light listened a moment longer, his hand hovering near the doorknob of the bathroom's entrance. _Sounds like no one's following – good_, he thought. _At least Dad's still on my side_. Keeping an ear cocked just in case, he moved over the threshold.

Both hands now on the vanity, framing the center sink, Light looked into his own eyes. _All I have to do is find a new place to hide the other flashdrive until I can use it_, he thought. _I don't believe for a second that Misa would turn against me, no matter what L might say, so I just need to stick to the plan and find a way for Misa to see the surveillance video of L I copied. I can do this_. A flash of white caught his eye in the reflection, and he spun around.

The shinigami passed the rest of the way through the wall of urinals to stare glumly at Light. Taking an involuntary step back, Light winced, lifting his left foot as his head swam with pain. "Rem, it's not –"

"There are no cameras or listening devices in here, Light Yagami. I have checked."

Light smiled. _Not the question I was going to ask you, shinigami_, he thought, _but that's good to know_. "You're still mad, aren't you, Rem." Light met her eye as she narrowed it. "He'll do it too, you know."

"What do you mean?" Rem loomed over Light as he rested against the vanity, his back to the mirror, hands on either side along the edge.

"Ryuzaki. If you've made any kind of deal with him, he'll double-cross you, just like I did." Light's smile widened as Rem reared back in shock. "The difference is, he has no use for Misa. He only cares about solving the case. Once that's done, there'll be no more reason for him to keep her alive."

"He knows I would kill him if he did that. And I have already learned not to make deals with humans."

Light laughed softly. _L knows you'd kill him?_ Light thought; _thanks for confirming my suspicions, stupid shinigami_. "Is that so? Then why are you talking to me?" After a moment of silence under Rem's glacial glare, Light tossed his hair out of his eyes. "Whatever he's said to you means nothing. He _lies_."

"So do you."

"Sometimes. But I had every intention of keeping my word to protect Misa, Rem. I would have _saved_ Misa. It might have cost you your life, but I never promised it wouldn't. You said you cared enough about Misa to die for her. Guess I shouldn't have taken you at _your_ word." Light took some satisfaction in the stunned look on Rem's face.

"You forget that I can see Misa's lifeline. Though it is shorter now, because of you."

"Misa made that decision entirely on her own, Rem. Also . . . since the whole point of seeing a human's lifespan is for a shinigami to know how much they can collect, someone's lifespan doesn't show when they might be killed using a Death Note – which means that someone could be writing Misa's name down right now, and you wouldn't know it until she died." Light waited for Rem to catch up to his logic.

"You're . . . you're saying that Ryuzaki would use the Death Note to kill Misa?" Rem seemed unconvinced.

"I notice the Death Note isn't on the table anymore, Rem. Did you move it somewhere? Or did he?"

Rem stared at Light, fear seeming to dawn in her eye.

_Paydirt_, Light thought. "My plan is still the best one for Misa. She'll always love me, and I'll always be there for her. If you want her to be safe and happy, you'll kill him."

Moments ticked by as Rem stood there, an indecorous statue in the middle of the men's room. Eventually, her mouth closed and she slipped wordlessly back through the wall. Light chuckled. _Guess I won't have to use Misa after all_, he thought; _I can just wait until after L's dead and get rid of the flashdrive then, when it's safe – it shouldn't be long now_. Light's smile spread to split his face. _Victory is within my grasp_.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Ah, Light. So very, very sure of himself. He doesn't even suspect that Misa hasn't gotten his message with their little code word, let alone that she's in the building and no longer has her memories. Even geniuses have flaws, particularly when they allow pride or overconfidence to blind them. L's not perfect either, and so much is still up in the air. At least Wedy seems to be improving, as she drifts closer to regaining consciousness.

It was interesting to write Naomi's parents. Families who lose a loved one but have no idea what happened seem to suffer more – the wound can't close. The father's thoughts were sort of an echoing sentiment to Rester's that that death is easiest for the dead. Though I don't point it out in the text (and it probably doesn't need pointing out), Naomi's father is the "friend of a friend" Rester mentioned to Aizawa and Ide early on, and the "friend" in that equation is Jack Penber, Raye's father. There's no reason to shoehorn all this explanation into the story itself, but in my scattered notes (I am surely keeping the Post-It company in business), Rester, aka Carter, has worked with and is friends with Jack Penber, and Raye's parents would have been in contact with Naomi's parents once Raye and Naomi got engaged, and Jack had Rester/Carter contact the Misoras after Naomi went missing. I figure Jack would have wanted to help find Naomi for Raye's sake, and would have empathized with her parents as well.

Some of my chapter and section titles (though not all) are quotes from things – bonus points to anyone who can place them.

UPDATED! As I was re-reading the "Lockstitch" section, I decided that it would make more sense for Light to be restrained by L and Mogi on the same floor as the main HQ room since the building was still in lockdown. I suppose I could have left it as it was, but it made me feel like I had to explain how they could have gotten to another floor and why, and I didn't want to overcomplicate things. (She says, overcomplicating things.)


	26. Too Weak a Wash of Crimson

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, finding a way to meet Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairings; spoilers through end of series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 26: Too Weak a Wash of Crimson

Duality of Matter

"I really don't see the point." The road rushed beneath their wheels as if in a hurry to be rid of them so that it might slumber again.

"Look, I can drop you off at home if you want – I just wish you'd said something earlier, since I'll have to double back now. But if you want me to, I will."

"Oh no, I wouldn't dream of keeping his majesty waiting."

"Ide, for the love of . . ." Aizawa rubbed his neck, keeping himself focused on the road. He knew he felt an urgency that Ide didn't share. Rester had let him have a copy of all the photos they'd taken of the scene where they'd found the remains, and he still had his copy of the NPA's security footage – it was all on his laptop, or more accurately, the laptop that Rester had given Aizawa. _I'm lucky that hospital didn't tow Matsuda's car_, Aizawa thought, _and that Ryuzaki thought to have me bring it back, or I'd be looking at cab service instead of driving_. _I can't believe Matsuda still leaves his keys under the floormat_. Aizawa shook his head, staring ahead, fighting drowsiness.

Puzzle pieces – it still felt like too many were missing, but Aizawa supposed that there might be more that the others had found while he and Ide were exploring a different aspect of the case. Whatever pieces might not yet be found, a picture was forming, and it wasn't pretty. _We may not have been set up as a sham investigative team, but did we end up being one anyway?_ Aizawa wasn't sure.

The men kept their mouths tight-lipped, two dashes of Morse code across the front seat. Some other cars shared the road with them, a reminder that even at such an hour, people still found things to do. Aizawa wondered how much of it was important – if any of it was important after all.

Setting his jaw, Aizawa pressed the accelerator a little harder. _I can't start thinking like that now_, he thought; _I promised myself I'd see this case through to the end, and I'm not backing down! Even if this evidence doesn't end up proving anything directly, it could still lead us to new conclusions, new theories to test. Whether it's important to anyone else or not, it's important to me, and that's enough to keep going_.

The car turned a corner and swerved to miss a brown sedan careening in the opposite direction. Both men tensed, watching it continue on as it narrowly avoided a collision with a red sports car further down the road.

"Hell of a time to be learning how to drive." Ide shook his head, turning to face forward again.

"Yeah. Although 'learning' is putting it charitably."

Ide felt a smirk teasing his face. "True." He still wondered how much of what he 'knew' about the Kira case was actually true. Though Ide was convinced that the most sensible explanation was that L was Kira, he wanted to believe Aizawa – in part because it was scary to think of L being Kira, but mostly because Aizawa was a good friend and a good cop, both of which Ide found to be in short supply.

The car slowed to a stop at the curb, and as Ide turned, he saw Aizawa put the hazard lights on. Ide frowned.

"Sorry, buddy . . ."

"Are you kidding me? I didn't expect to meet L, but I can't even enter the building?" Ide felt his cheeks flush. "If I'd known _that_, I would have asked you to drop me home!"

"It's – you _can_ enter the building, that's why I'm dropping you off here. Just go up those steps and press the buzzer. They'll let you into the lobby. I . . . have to enter another way."

_At least he has the decency to look embarrassed_, Ide thought. "Secret entrance, huh?"

"More like a garage with some serious security features."

Ide sighed. "Fine, whatever. Have fun in L's secret underground lair, just don't forget me when you leave – catching a cab at this hour would be a pain in the ass." Ide opened the car door and got out.

"Thanks, Ide. Hey, to make it up to you, I could send Matsuda your way with some coffee." Aizawa smiled through the open door.

"Ha – if you really want to make it up to me, you'll send that pretty nurse my way with some coffee! And maybe a massage." Ide grudgingly grinned back and shut the door on Aizawa's laugh.

Aizawa waved before pulling away and around the corner, and Ide turned to face the building. Climbing the steps, he remembered the building that used to be in the same spot. It had been older, shorter, and kind of ugly, and it had never really fit the neighborhood. Ide supposed that was why he'd liked it. He'd bought things in the mom & pop convenience store at one end of it, he'd had drinks at the dingy little bar next door, and he'd thumbed through paperbacks in the second-hand bookstore around the corner. The building had felt small in a city full of big, and he'd been comfortable there. And then some bigshot industrialist had torn it all down and put up a new tall building just like all the other buildings around it, like bringing a boulder of sand to a giant beach. _Probably some jerk who's under L's thumb_, Ide thought, mouth twisting. _There's never any room for the little guy_.

Ide reached for the square button next to the glass door and heard a low hum before his finger had made contact. Instinctively, he pulled on the door handle and found that it opened, and the humming stopped.

"Watching, eh?" Ide looked up and around as he entered, waving at whatever cameras there might be. _Well, this'll be fun_, he thought, grimacing at the absence of magazines or comfortable chairs.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Penny, Dropped

"That may have been the most sarcastic wave I have ever seen."

"Heh, well, that's Ide for you." Matsuda rubbed the back of his neck. "Don't hold it against him, though – he's a good guy."

"On the contrary – I find a dose of skepticism to be quite healthy, even necessary. I am glad that he has been working on this case. The more questioning eyes we can focus on a problem, the sooner it can be unraveled." L nibbled on strawberry pocky.

"Does that mean we can let him come upstairs?"

"Actually, I'm honoring his wishes by leaving him down there. He did not want to work with me directly, and whatever his reasons may have been, I must respect that. Also . . . it may be advantageous to maintain at least one person working outside the central group. Granted, I am used to that person being _me_, but –"

The men looked toward the strange noise and saw L's cellphone buzzing on the desk. It had only been a few minutes since he had finished tinkering with it and placed it, finally fixed, in its charger. They all watched as L lifted it to his ear and answered.

"Yes? I – what?" L raised his voice, seeming to listen intently. "Good. Yes. I'm at HQ. Should we – understood." L closed the phone and presented his profile to the room. "Watari will be arriving soon."

Soichiro wondered if Watari's return would improve matters or worsen them. He found Watari to be sensible and a calming influence on the others, but this was the same man who had locked down the entire building on what seemed like a whim and then left. _Even if Light was guilty of colluding with Misa, it surely didn't warrant losing all of our research_, he thought. Soichiro reminded himself that he didn't know Watari all that well and that the man seemed to be a bundle of contradictions – to be equally skilled at baking _and_ torture techniques was bizarrely incongruous at the very least, and his being an adept diplomat and sniper only added to the strange mix. He wondered how Watari, at his age, was even awake enough to operate a helicopter on no more sleep than Soichiro himself had had.

Ignoring the protests of his back muscles, Soichiro stood and stretched. "I think it's my turn to make coffee." He started moving toward the hall leading to the kitchen.

"Huh? Oh, Chief, Mogi already made another pot. You can make the next one – if you can beat Watari to it, since he's on his way back." Matsuda smiled.

"I see. Thank you, Matsuda. And Mogi."

"Do you want me to bring you a cup, Chief?"

"That's alright – I need to stretch my legs anyway." Soichiro hoped as he walked away that a little more caffeine would help him clear the fog from his mind. As he entered the hallway, he cast a glance backward toward his son, who was sitting silently at his usual spot in front of the computer as though nothing had changed.

"Hey Light, do you want some coffee too?"

"No thanks, Matsuda, I think I'm good right now." Light didn't turn around and seemed focused on trying to recover data from the wiped hard drives, though he did not seem frustrated by his lack of success.

Watching from across the room, Mogi noticed that Light still had a very faint smile, reminding him of Light's loopy laughter. He realized that it might be too much to expect Light not to show some sign of strain following the events of that afternoon and evening, but it was the _kind_ of response he had shown that Mogi found disquieting. _If only I'd found another flashdrive_, Mogi thought, _or something else to show us what he really did_.

The elevator's ding drew everyone's eye. Steel doors were still sliding aside when the chorus of greetings began.

"Aizawa! It's about time!" Matsuda was beaming, and moved to shake his hand.

"Good to see you, Aizawa." Mogi nodded, a smile warming his face.

"Welcome back." Light stood and bowed his head, remaining close to his work station.

"It is good to see that you survived your ordeal." L had spun his chair to face Aizawa and was now tilting his head slightly. Mogi couldn't tell if he was pleased, amused, or just curious.

"Thanks everyone. It's good to be back." Aizawa seemed tired as he looked around the room, nodding.

"I expect this may be a moot point, but just for our edification . . ." L reached for a stack of papers and lifted one with a man's name and face on it by its corner. "Do you recognize this man?"

Aizawa walked into the center of the room, and L rolled forward in his chair, meeting him halfway, handing him the page. "Huh. Yeah, actually. This is one of the three guys who took Ide and me, but . . . he went by the name 'John.'"

"An alias?"

"Yeah. It makes sense. Before they cleared us, they had a theory that Kira was a member of the Task Force."

"Whoa, what?" Matsuda seemed shocked. Mogi noticed that Light seemed like he was trying not to pay attention, though Light's jaw had clenched, but then wondered if he was reading too much into things.

"Hm, well, it is good to know that I am not the only one who has had that thought." L crunched a pink stick-like cookie and took the page back from Aizawa, rolling backward to the desk with the push of one foot.

"Well, since _I_ was the one they suspected, I'm glad they changed their minds." Aizawa shook his head, stifling a yawn. "Things may have been a little bumpy at first, but . . . I can vouch for those guys." Aizawa looked squarely at L. "Their methods were a little unorthodox, but I guess I've gotten used to that."

A wisp of a smile touched L's lips. "I am glad to hear it."

Aizawa frowned, sweeping the room quickly with his eyes. "Wait, where's the Chief? And Matsuda, what the hell are you wearing?"

"Oh, the Chief's getting more coffee, and, um . . . well, these doctor's scrubs were the only thing there was to wear after the nurse undressed me, and when –"

"_What?_" Aizawa's mouth was open. Mogi wondered if Matsuda noticed that every eyebrow in the room was now raised. "You mean when Ide and I were being kidnapped, you were on some kinky date?"

"_No!_ No, it wasn't like that at all!" Matsuda's face went beet red. "See, she _maced_ me because she thought we were stalking her outside St. Luke's, but then she realized we were cops, and she said she was sorry, but my clothes were ruined, so she had to give me new ones, and then I just didn't have time to change, and these are more comfortable anyway . . ." Matsuda trailed off as he noticed that Aizawa had started to laugh.

"Matsuda . . . that could only happen to you." Aizawa clapped him on the shoulder.

Dipping his head for a moment as some of the color lifted from his cheeks, Matsuda then looked up with a half-grin. "Yeah, well, it was after you guys got kidnapped anyway – you were probably all best buddies by the time that happened."

"Hey, I said I could vouch for them, not that we were buddies. By the way," Aizawa raised an eyebrow, "the nurse who undressed you wouldn't happen to have been blonde, would she?"

"Wow, yeah, she was! Do you know her, Aizawa?"

Aizawa laughed. "Not exactly, but I can't wait for you to tell Ide this story!"

"Hey, it's all true – just ask the Chief!"

"Right, so where is –"

"I'm here, Aizawa." Holding a mug, Soichiro walked toward Aizawa and shook his hand warmly. "It's good to have you back."

"Thanks, Chief."

"I hope you've brought good news."

Mogi saw Aizawa's smile falter and knew. _They really found something_, Mogi thought, _and if he's reacting this way to the Chief . . . odds are it implicates Light_. Mogi suddenly wondered if he'd been spending too much time around L to be analyzing people's behavior to this extent. He then noticed that he wasn't the only one who seemed uncomfortable and decided that everyone must be having similar thoughts.

"I am curious to know where the lab that is processing the results you mentioned is located, but that can wait until after you brief us on your findings, Aizawa." L leaned toward him, hands placed loosely on knees.

Aizawa seemed to notice that all eyes in the room were on him, and straightened slightly. "Most of what we did all day was interview people, search some public areas, and look at video recordings."

"So they were investigating Kira too?" Light's voice seemed to surprise Aizawa.

"Well, no, not really." Aizawa seemed uneasy, but met Light's eye. "They were investigating the disappearance of Naomi Misora."

Light gave no outward appearance of surprise at this, seeming only to freeze for a moment, but Mogi thought it was odd not to react more considering that everyone else was reacting in surprise. He noticed L staring intently at Light and wondered if he saw anything Mogi was missing.

"Wow, I'd almost forgotten about her . . ." Matsuda looked sheepish. "Who did you talk to?"

Aizawa took a deep breath. "We talked to her parents first – good people, both of them. You'd expect any parents to not want to believe their child is dead, let alone dead by suicide, but . . . her father said he just wanted to know what happened to her. Even if suicide was the reason, he needed to make sense of it. They played us the phone messages Naomi had left for them, the ones they still had saved. The first one was cheerful, talking about wedding plans; the next one was short – she sounded raw, only telling them that her fiancé had died – but the last one . . . she sounded calm, determined. It seemed like she was trying to placate her parents, but one thing she said stood out to me: 'There's something I have to finish, for Raye's sake.' Her mother said she sounded angry on that message, but it was subtle enough that only a mother would be able to tell."

"Hmm . . . I still doubt that Misora would kill herself out of remorse or despair, but anger and determination would not rule out the possibility of suicide . . ." L mused.

"Yeah, that's what I thought at the time too. Then we went to the NPA. After talking to Nakahara and Tomonaga, who were working at the front desk during that period, we reviewed surveillance video taken on the day Misora disappeared." Aizawa looked directly at L. "It was when we met you for the first time, and no one was at Task Force headquarters."

Mogi saw L's expression darken, but no one spoke, waiting for Aizawa to continue.

"She was asking to speak directly to the Task Force, insisting she had important information on the Kira case that she needed to share, and then," Aizawa turned to Light, "the Chief's son walked up and started talking to her." All other eyes seemed to turn to Light as well.

"I remember that day," Light said, sounding almost too casual to be casual. "I was bringing Dad a change of clothes. It was before I joined the Task Force. She seemed nice enough, if a little flaky."

"Mm. Couldn't have been Misora then – she was the antithesis of flaky." L cracked a pocky in two, devouring it, eyelids drooping just a bit.

"Well, the death of her fiancé must have been affecting her – I just talked to her until she calmed down, and –"

"That's all very interesting, but I'd like to hear the rest of what Aizawa has to say first." L pointedly turned to Aizawa after interrupting Light, who turned slightly pink.

"Anyway," Aizawa returned his gaze to L, "the video recording was pretty clear, so it was definitely Misora and Light. They talked for awhile inside and then left the lobby together, still talking. There was no way of telling where they went or who else they might have encountered once they got out of range of the front door security cameras, but . . . Misora is seen almost an hour later walking alone past the front of the NPA building. It was uncanny – the first time she shows up at the NPA, she's determined to talk to the Task Force, almost yelling at the front desk guys, but the last time . . . she just walks by the entrance, like it's not even important to her anymore. Whatever else may have happened to change her mind," Aizawa glanced at Soichiro, "it looks like Light may have been the last person to speak to her before she died."

Fans whirring in computers seemed to be the only semblance of breathing in the room for a moment, and Mogi didn't dare look at Soichiro or Light.

"We don't have any proof that she died – I mean, it would be tragic if that were the case, but she may have –"

"We found remains." Aizawa interrupted Light. "That's what the lab is testing right now."

"Hmm . . ." L's eyes were on Light, who seemed to have paled slightly, but his mind seemed elsewhere. "If they do turn out to be Misora's remains, then at least her family will have closure. She was an impressive FBI agent. I do wish we knew what information she had wanted to share with us, however."

"Well yeah, but what does all this mean?" Matsuda rubbed his chin. "It's all so –"

"Light." Soichiro's voice was soft, but cut through every other sound in the room.

"Yes, Dad?"

"Misora's information was in our files for the Kira case, including her photo and the fact that she was missing. Why didn't you tell any of us that you met and spoke with this woman before now?"

Everyone turned slowly toward Light, who suddenly seemed at a loss for words.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Matryoshka

Tinny laughter erupted into the air as he exited the kitchen. Sighing, he reached for the off-switch, silencing the malevolent-looking pumpkin man on the hall table before lifting it by the head and continuing down the hallway. He'd spent much of the week taking down the myriad Halloween decorations, but a few items had escaped him only to re-emerge elsewhere, often underfoot but always in the way. It was tedious and annoying dealing with such pranks, but his efforts here were a labor of love, even if the object of his love was far away.

Dinner would be ending soon, and a joyful clinking of silver on porcelain still reached his ears as he walked. He idly hoped that all of the candy had been eaten as well, if only so that he would no longer need to hear all the arguing over stolen chocolate. Reaching his office door at last, he entered and shut it behind him, dropping the plastic pumpkin-headed figure into the wastebasket without a second glance. His feet carried him quite automatically to his desk, and he took his place behind it.

The package was where he'd left it, locked inside a drawer. _Nearly the same thing as just leaving it out_, he thought, _which only guarantees that no one bothered to look at it_. It had resembled any of the other packages he was always receiving when he ordered more books for the library or himself, though the return address had been smudged enough to become illegible. It had not, however, contained the updated astrophysics textbooks or the latest Terry Pratchett novel he'd ordered – the package had contained a package. Affixed on the outside of the interior package, a typed label read: "U.K. Government Property – Deliver Promptly to Inspector General Roger Ruvie." _Is Quills having me on?_ he'd thought. Then he'd opened the interior package to behold . . . another package.

This time there was a note – handwritten, no less, but not in Wammy's hand. The sharp strokes of L's handwriting were unmistakable, as was its tone. "Roger: Please retain this central package in safekeeping without opening it. If the 21-day countdown begins, wait 7 days, then open it in private and follow the instructions therein. If the countdown reaches its full conclusion, you already know what to do. If the 21-day protocol does not go into effect at all, simply keep the package in the safe for my return. Regards, That Black-Haired Bastard."

Roger scowled. One off-color remark, made many years ago, and L still wouldn't let him live it down, no matter how much calmer and more deferential Roger had become around L and the others. _I suppose this is as much of a sense of humor as he can muster_, Roger ruminated, shaking his head. It was odd to have received this package just hours after the 21-day countdown began, but Roger found it even more puzzling now that the countdown had already stopped. Knowing that the protocol was not about to go into effect did nothing to soothe his nerves, however, considering the added instructions from L, both known and unknown. _What the bloody hell are you two doing over there_, Roger thought bitterly.

He knew he'd have to put the package in the safe quickly, before the children left the dining room – this was his first real opportunity since it had arrived, and he could not afford to spark their curiosity about it. The door to the basement, which led to the high security safe below, was just across the hall from his own. He stood and moved steadily to re-cross the room, the resealed box in a box in a box tucked casually under his arm.

His resentment of L and the changes he'd brought to their lives had dimmed over the years, but Roger still wished that L's activities and obligations didn't keep him separate from Wammy so much of the time. They were both getting on in years, and it had been some time since they had been intimate, though truth be told that wasn't what he missed most about the older man, not really. Roger missed the easy companionship, the conversation, and the simple comfort of spending time with someone who understood and accepted him completely – not to mention Wammy's uncanny knack for calming the children with only a word or a look.

Glancing left, Roger stepped from one threshold to the next, unlocking the basement door and moving through it, relocking it behind him as quickly as he could. He flicked the light switch automatically, though he'd gotten down these stairs by feel alone before. Bypassing crates and machinery and the small rack of wines he kept for special occasions, he walked straight for the floor-to-ceiling safe, every bit as big as a bank vault, but with ten times more security features. As the infrared camera scanned him, he stepped up to the vault door and placed his palm on the reader. After hearing a beep, he removed his glasses for the retinal scanner, going over the entry codes in his mind – one to enter, another to replace it upon exiting. _At least it doesn't require me to dance a jig or spin gold from hay to open the damned thing_, he thought, tapping in the first code. At last, the safe door unlatched with a sound like an arthritic robot trying to stand.

He walked in and placed the package, all of it, in one of the compartments within the safe and locked it inside, keying in "bastard" as its code. A pang of guilt hit Roger as he backed away, heading toward the still-open mouth of the safe, knowing what the implications of his receiving the package meant. _If L is worried enough to suggest that the 21-day countdown might complete, putting the protocol into effect_, he thought, _they are in more danger than I'd feared, and here I am putting quips into keycodes_. The safe door completed its slow swing and shut with a heavy thrum and crank. Roger entered an alphanumeric code based on the notes from part of a melody in "Budo" by Miles Davis and backed away from the safe, infrared camera still tracking him. Ignoring the stiffness in his knees, he began climbing the stairs, hand gripping the railing.

_"He'll be the death of you, you know."_

_"Life will be the death of us all, Roger. I might as well live with a view toward enriching the world we share."_

Their words, exchanged nearly a decade ago, rang in his head. Establishing this orphanage, and the others that followed, was supposed to have been their way of enriching the world while still settling down. When he'd met Quillish Wammy, the man had been a dashing war veteran and an innovative inventor, a strange embodiment of destruction and creation wrapped into one person. Almost a year after they'd become involved, Roger had discovered that his "Quills" had been conducting detective work on his own, trying to help the police solve crimes under the radar. Only a near-miss that had almost gotten him framed for murder had convinced Wammy to stop his vigilante investigations and start the orphanage with Roger. Until he'd brought L home. L, who solved cases far more quickly than Wammy, or anyone else, had before him. L, who obsessively sought out cases to solve with more zeal than Wammy ever had. It had changed everything, including the focus of the orphanages, and Roger still worried at how quickly the safe distraction of running an orphanage had become the thing enabling the obsession he'd tried to quell. _Please be safe, Quills_, Roger thought; _I can't bear to do this alone_.

The scent of roasted chicken and gravy still hung in the air as he re-emerged into the hallway. Breathing deeply, he closed and locked the door and turned back – to regard two small sentinels staring up at him, seemingly materialized out of thin air.

"So, what are you hiding from us now?"

Roger balefully assessed the defiant blond boy. "Mello, you know better than to ask me that. Halloween may be over, but Christmas is coming." He felt the boys' eyes on him as he stepped around them to re-enter his office.

"You've been edgy all afternoon, Roger – something's up. Don't treat us like we're little kids." Mello's rising voice carried well in the hallway.

"Perhaps I've been on edge," Roger turned to meet Mello's eye, "because someone has been strewing assorted toys and other noisemakers in my path for the past few days and I'm tired of it. Such behavior would be appropriate for 'little kids,' though I can hardly imagine who might be responsible." Glowering, Roger noted the blush on the boys' faces with some satisfaction and walked into his office without another look back. Eventually, he heard footsteps, moving away.

"Maybe it really was just Christmas stuff. I hope I get a new –"

"Shut up, Matt."

"Hey! Not everything's a fucking conspiracy, dumbass!"

"Shut the fuck up! The whole world can hear you!"

Roger's eyes were still closed, his hands clasped before him, as the voices moved out of range. He did not have the energy to follow and reprimand the two boys for their profanity, let alone stand firm against a renewed onslaught of unanswerable questions. Reaching over to the side table, he lifted the framed photo of Wammy, holding it in front of his face. It looked as though the man's eyes had been closed when the photo was taken, but Roger knew they were not. The slightest sliver of sight slipped in through lowered lids as though his eyelashes could filter the world, let Wammy see only what needed to be seen. Roger stared at his face, captured in time, and wondered what sights he was filtering now.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: Sonar called it with the appearance of Ide and Aizawa on their drive back, but no luck with Ide meeting L – I couldn't see L letting him into HQ, in part because of what L said but also because L is a stubborn mofo. Heh, I guess Ide and Matsuda are going to have an interesting conversation about a nurse the next time they meet. Soichiro seems to be opening his eyes a bit more, but Light can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be . . .

And that's right, I paired Watari and Roger – ha! No sex scenes though, sorry. ^_^ The nickname "Quills" isn't just a play on the name Quillish, by the way; it's a porcupine reference (ironic, since Roger is the pricklier of the two of them). I wasn't even sure I'd be including Roger's section in this until I got to the signature of L's note to him and cracked up. Only a teeny glimpse of Mello and Matt in this – I'm considering writing something featuring them in another fic, we'll see. I imagine both Roger and Watari as being into jazz, but not the same kinds – Roger would be more into moody/experimental jazz and blues (Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Son Seals), while Watari would prefer cooler jazz (Chet Baker, Dave Brubeck, etc.). I may have put too much thought into this . . . It's possible that I'll add a list of songs as character themes at the end of this fic.

Two more chapters to go. I couldn't believe how long this was becoming when I started this, and now I can scarcely believe it's almost over. Thanks to everyone reading for hanging with me for so long.


	27. Final Turn

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, finding a way to meet Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairings; spoilers through end of series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 27: Final Turn

Float Down Like an Omen

"Are you _sure_ you can't just get me out of here?"

"It is as I said – I can carry small inanimate objects with me through solid matter, but not living beings. I am sorry." Rem wondered if there were cameras in the room, and decided that there must be, since almost every room in the building seemed to have them.

"Well, that's no fair." Misa pouted briefly before brightening. "But at least you were able to get me some soap and shampoo! I feel _so_ much better now, even if I have to put _that_ thing on again tomorrow." Misa gestured dismissively at her dress, which was drip-drying with her underthings in the bathroom. She moved to sit on the bed, still wrapped in a towel.

"Misa, when you said that Ryuzaki rescued you . . . what did you mean?"

"Huh? Oh, he just got me away from these jerks who kidnapped me."

"You were _kidnapped?_" Rem's jaw hung open.

"Yeah. It was horrible – I don't even remember all of it." Misa studied her nails.

"Then how do you know that he rescued you?"

"Oh, I remember that part. Actually," Misa put her hands behind her, palms down on the bed, and leaned back, looking up at Rem, "he sent this blonde woman to get me – I don't remember her name – but I didn't know she was there to help me, so I . . . kinda bonked her on the head, and she crashed the getaway car and I ran. Ryuzaki came for me himself then and brought me here for my protection."

"I see." Rem's eye narrowed as she watched Misa absently kicking her feet, the bend of her knees at the edge of the bed, as though she was splashing in a pool. "And you believe that he will keep you safe?"

"Well, yeah! I mean, he went to all that trouble, right? I'm still kinda mad that he trapped me in this apartment, but he already proved that he wants me to be safe on our way back here." Misa had a faraway look in her eyes that reminded Rem of when Misa posed at photo shoots.

"Do you love him?"

"_What?_ No!" Misa's cheeks pinked a bit. "I mean . . . I dunno . . ." Sitting up straight, Misa clamped her arms just under her breasts, pushing them up while keeping her towel in place. "I'm grateful to him for saving me, that's all. He's a friend – a good friend – but Light's my boyfriend. Even though . . ."

"What is it, Misa?" Rem noticed that Misa slipped a few surreptitious glances at the corners of the room, and wondered if she knew there were cameras too. _If she knows_, Rem thought, _perhaps she is acting_.

"I guess it just makes me wonder . . ." Misa trailed off, looking to the side. "If Light really loved me, why didn't _he_ rescue me? It's just so confusing."

Rem could not decide whether Misa believed what she was saying any more than she could decide who posed a greater danger to her, L or Light. She wondered how she could truly protect Misa when so many seemed to want to use her for their own means, and when Misa herself seemed to continually stumble toward danger. _Perhaps she will at least be safer now without a Death Note_, Rem thought.

Misa yawned. "I guess I should go to bed now. If I don't get some beauty sleep, I don't even want to know what I'll look like tomorrow!" Misa stood and turned to pull the bedclothes down.

"Of course."

"It was nice to meet you, shinigami Rem. Maybe we can see each other again tomorrow." Misa gave a polite bow of her head to Rem.

"Maybe we can. Goodnight, Misa Amane." Rem faded into the wall, allowing Misa some privacy. After a few moments, Rem stole one last look back, sticking her phased head part-way through the ceiling into the now-darkened room to gaze down at Misa under the covers, curved on her side. The shinigami retreated, fading up and through, seeking a new observation point as her thoughts roiled within her.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Delusion Effusion

_Is this the best they can do? It's pathetic – they still can't prove anything!_ Light thought, still managing to stay expressionless. "Dad . . . I know what it looks like, but . . . she never told me her name, and when I saw Misora's picture in the file, well, there just wasn't anything I could really add to it that would have helped us catch Kira. I asked her what information she had for the Task Force, but she wouldn't tell me. Then, when I said she seemed sad, she told me that she'd lost someone recently. She eventually opened up about that, telling me her fiancé had just died and even crying a little, but she never told me his name either. I mean, it was a little freaky to read later that she was engaged to Raye Penber, but I evaluated it rationally and realized that since my information on her wouldn't help the case, it would just end up distracting from it. That's why I didn't say anything, Dad."

Light looked up through his lashes, absorbing as much from his peripheral view as possible. He hadn't expected L to be convinced by his plausible explanation – and sure enough, L had that bored expression he got when he thought he'd detected a lie – but even his father still seemed uncertain. _C'mon Dad_, Light thought, _you know this proves nothing – think it through!_

"Son . . . I understand how you might make a decision not to share information that could distract from the case," Soichiro inhaled steadily, "but what I don't understand is why you wouldn't have _wanted_ to talk about something like that." He brought his chin up to look more directly into Light's eyes. "A strange woman confides in you about her fiancé's death, then later you find out that fiancé was Raye Penber, whose death was what brought you under suspicion in the first place? Reading such a thing should have upset you, and yet you spoke to no one about this. Not even to me."

"Well, of course I was upset – I had to calm down, and when I did, that's when I decided on the rational approach. I didn't need to burden anyone else with my feelings." Light noticed for the first time the pronounced bags that had been forming under his father's eyes.

"Feelings are not a burden, Light. They are a part of what we are. Holding them in check is one thing, but to deny them completely . . . that would be inhuman."

The moment could not have been long, but it felt interminable as father and son stared at each other, and everyone else stared at them.

"Dad – are you trying to say that I'm . . . not _human?_ Just because I didn't want to worry you by seeing me upset?" Light's face flushed red. _Even an innocent would be upset by this_, Light thought; _it's OK to show it, as long as I don't go too far_. "Well, I'm upset now! Is this better? Why don't you believe me?" His breathing quickened, fists clenching reflexively at his sides.

"I want to believe you, Light. I have always believed _in_ you, my son. But I have been a member of the police force for a long time, and when a suspect's story doesn't add up, it's clear –"

"_Suspect?_" Light interrupted his father. "So now _you_ think I'm Kira too?"

"Son –"

"This is bullshit! All of this so-called evidence is circumstantial – none of it proves anything! What Aizawa said only proves that I talked to a woman who later disappeared – that's _it_. And then there's the fact that when I put Mogi's database on a flashdrive to review later, it caused Watari to overreact, which proves nothing more than there's a bias against me. The rules of the Death Note proved my innocence! How is _any_ of this unclear?"

Soichiro and L glanced ruefully at each other, but Aizawa spoke first. "Why didn't you think that Misora would have spoken on your behalf? You cared enough to talk to her for a pretty long time, but you didn't care enough to try and look for her once you knew she was missing? You should have wanted her to be found so she could vouch for you." Aizawa swallowed, his frown unchanged. "Also . . . one of the earliest things your father taught me when I joined the police force was that any suspect who claimed the evidence against them was circumstantial . . . warranted further investigation."

"That's an oversimplifi—"

"No." Soichiro interrupted Light. "What I said then was that the suspect was more likely to be guilty." He looked over at Aizawa, eyes hooded. "You phrased it more kindly than I did."

"Our supposed 'overreactions' and 'circumstantial' evidence notwithstanding, I would posit that Light should remain confined in a room in this building until such time as he is either cleared or conclusively proven guilty." L's eyes stayed on Light.

"But I'm not guilty! It's already been proven!" Light's eyes were widening now.

"Well yeah, unless the rules are wrong somehow, or have exceptions we don't know about, or are maybe in some kind of code . . ." Matsuda trailed off, suddenly realizing he'd been talking out loud. Watching them, he felt numb, and unbalanced, as though the ground was shifting beneath him.

"Mm, those are . . . interesting –"

"Where _is_ the Death Note, Ryuzaki?" Light interrupted L, grin stealing back onto his face.

L blinked. "I put it in a safe place when you were attempting to leave the building."

"But you know where it is, which means it's not safe from _you_."

"I do not have access to it now, actually."

"Uh-huh. And why should we believe you?" Light took a step closer to L.

"Feel free not to. It was far too dangerous a tool to leave lying around." L's eyes flashed. "Much like you, Light."

"That's enough." Soichiro interrupted, placing his hand over his son's heart as he stepped between them. "Ryuzaki . . . you may confine Light, as long as you do not put him in restraints again. Once we do this, I would like to know where you moved the Death Note."

"That is acceptable, Mr. Yagami. I –"

"No! This is a mistake!" Light's face flushed again.

"Son!" Soichiro turned, his hand moving to Light's shoulder. "This will all be over soon, whatever the outcome. You need to cooperate so that we can see this through. I only hope that you can learn to forgive and forget . . ." Soichiro watched his son take a step backward, out of reach, expression darkening.

"I do hope we won't have to restrain him for his own protection, Mr. Yagami, but . . ." L turned to face the older man, "everything we do, every _mistake_ we make, is an opportunity to learn. We must not fail to learn from our mistakes because the lessons have been bought with too much pain to waste them. So forgive, yes, for your sanity if nothing else," L's eyes flicked to Light and back, "but do not forget. _Never_ forget." L turned to Mogi. "Please escort Light to the other room."

"Yeah Mogi, hurry up and take me out of here before I tell everyone the truth." Light's voice sounded almost cheerful now, if not for the fire in his eyes.

"The truth would be a welcome change from you, Light, though the likelihood of our ever hearing it from you is 1% at best." L's gaze didn't waver.

Light's chuckle was hoarse and hollow. "That's funny coming from you, _Kira_."

Matsuda gasped and looked around at the others as Aizawa paled, Mogi narrowed his eyes, and Soichiro frowned. L seemed to sigh.

Light continued, "The whole reason you moved the Death Note was so that you could use it again without being seen – you've been stringing us along from the beginning, getting us to trust you while hiding in plain sight. I should have seen it before, but it was just too –"

"Stupid." L's eyes were half-lidded. "That is one of the most pathetic theories I have ever heard, Light Yagami. You had such potential – to see you so desperate now is truly disappointing."

"Does he really have you all fooled?" Light spread his hands, looking from man to man as he stepped into the center among them. "Are you all that blind?"

"Stop this, Light." Soichiro moved closer to his son. "You're not making any sense anymore. You need to rest – we'll work this all out in the morning."

"You believe _him_ over me?" Light flipped a hand in L's direction.

"I don't believe L is Kira any more than I believe you are."

Light's eyes flew wide, and he doubled over, hands on his knees, his breaths coming in fits before his strange loopy laugh unfurled out of him, filling the room. No one else moved. As L stared at Light, the other men looked to Soichiro, who nodded solemnly. They moved to surround him, closing in as he seemed to vomit laughter.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Some Indelible Contamination

She found herself trembling slightly as she watched them. _If Light can lose control this way_, she thought, _who's to say what he will do? No one has spoken of Misa since Ryuzaki implied she'd turned against Light, but if he accuses her now to save himself_ . . .

Taking action was necessary, she felt it, but Rem was torn on what to do. Had the Death Note she'd given Higuchi still been there, she might have been able to manipulate someone into taking it and burning it – being the shinigami bound to it, she could not destroy it herself – but not without killing the person she manipulated and dying as well. _At least then Light would lose his memories_, Rem thought, _but no one except Ryuzaki knows where he moved it, and if he does not have access to it anymore . . . what I wrote would not come to pass, it would not be destroyed, and I would die for nothing_. She wanted to believe that L would keep his word, but she had wanted to believe Light too. _These humans – they lie to each other and themselves_. Rem grimaced. _How can I save one when I can trust none?_

Rem continued to watch the men gathered in HQ from her vantage point in Watari's otherwise unoccupied observation room. Light had accused L of being Kira, but no one seemed to believe his lie. _Ryuk would not have helped me even if he were here_, she thought ruefully. _It's up to me now_.

She struggled to calm herself – she would only have this one chance, one last moment, one last jewel on the chain. So strange, being a creature who could stave off and endure through so much time and yet still be at its mercy. Rem hated that she would never know if she had succeeded. All she had now was hope – and pen and paper.

Reaching for her belt, she kept watch, images from the screens reflecting on her face. Most images were peaceful, devoid of life, but one screen showed turmoil. Rem unsheathed her weapon, touched its firm cover, felt its weight in her hand, fingering its spine, turned it in front of her, and set it down on the desk, knocking a teacup to the floor, shattering it. As she opened her notebook, pen poised, she noticed a red light blinking and a new image on one of the monitors. _Another bird, come home to roost_, she thought, wondering where she'd heard the phrase before. Risky as it might be, she chose to start with one who would not be seen immediately by the others. Rem could make herself wait no longer.

A soft crescent still plumped the sheets in a darkened room. If she squinted at the image, Rem could just make out the plume of blonde hair on the pillow. She remembered how she'd gotten her name – her penchant for taking lifespans from sleeping humans had garnered her some ridicule for being "too soft" from the other shinigami, but she had stopped caring what they thought a long time ago. Rem wished she could produce even a single tear. "Forgive me, Misa."

Wondering what judgment, if any, might await her, Rem bent forward and began writing, faster than she ever had, the rasp of bone on parchment the only sound above the angry voices of men.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Ne Cadant in Obscurum

L found himself worried for Soichiro more than anyone else – to see his son so unhinged must be taking its toll. He kept his eyes on Light, though, knowing that if he felt desperate enough to make wild accusations, then he would be capable of harming any of them, including his own father. There was only so much that he could anticipate, however, so L watched, as he always watched.

The building screamed. The men froze in place, the sound of metal rending metal assaulting them from above – roaring, pounding, shrieking. The lights flickered as the unmistakable sound of an explosion met their ears, rolling through them, shaking the floor and everything around them.

L's face twisted as he stood, chair spinning behind him. "_Kira_." His voice was nearly a growl, harmonizing with the groans of the structure that cocooned them.

"Is that a confession, Ryuzaki?" Light's lilting tone was in stark contrast to the noise engulfing them all, as though he was debating the merits of pie versus cake.

"How did you find out his name?" L stalked toward Light, lip curling slightly. _Could he have done this earlier somehow?_ L wondered. _Did he steal information about Watari instead of images of me?_

"Whose name?" Matsuda asked, his arms still out for balance as the claxons of the fire alarms joined the chorus of noise.

_The shinigami would already know everyone's names_, L thought. _If she reneged on our deal, if Light turned her back to his favor, if this is her sacrifice_ . . . L stopped short, standing stock-still, his head snapping up. "Everyone! The shinigami is –"

The ache was immediate, detonating within him, rolling out from his chest to every extremity until his fingers and toes tingled. Time seemed to slow, and L felt himself tipping, falling as if through amber. He saw Light's eyes widen, jaw abruptly slack. He saw Mogi turn, he saw hands moving, he thought he heard shouting. The lights flickered again as his head tilted back to greet them, a snapped pocky falling forgotten from his hand, pink matchsticks gone to ground.

Everything was shifting, shaking, waves roaring out and back. Falling or floating, it felt like forever, the pain sharp, washing within him, an angry ocean in a corked bottle. Sudden warmth surprised him, encircling and binding him. He felt his head jerk back from impact, but it did not hit the floor. The warmth spread, his neck cradled, fingers lacing into his hair, pressing against his scalp, tipping his head forward. He found himself looking directly into Light's eyes.

Shock and fear fought on Light's face. L watched. He always watched. Flickering light, and flickering Light, strobing contradictions in front of him, showed him what he needed, the truth glimpsed at last as Light bent closer and grinned down, savoring a victory unearned. A gift. L returned the gift, smiling back gently, his hand squeezing Light's shoulder just once. A kindness.

Light recoiled, his face moving slowly out of focus, and L saw black wings looming behind him. _Unseen before now?_ he wondered. _Or_ . . .

Eyes wider than L's stared back over Light's shoulder, unseen by all but L. He felt a laugh bubbling low in his throat, the rhythmic hum tickling him. _Are you not entertained, Ryuk?_ L thought, drifting. Relief overtook amusement, suffusing him as the pain began to dull, his eyes, twin beds pulling themselves closed, finally able to rest.

Rearing back, Light whipped his head around to scan the room, his eyes bulging as he saw what lurked behind him. "Ryu – Ryuzaki! He wrote his own name in the Death Note to make it look like I killed him! He must have – unless there is another Kira somew—"

Light's words stopped in his throat, caught, and his spine went rigid. _No!_ Light thought. _This is wrong! This isn't how it's supposed to happen!_ The others stood arrayed around Light and L, their arms out as if they were trying to contain them. _Take it back, Ryuk! I can still do this! I can be the god of the new world – I can't die yet! I'll take the pain, I'll give up everything, just let me . . . let me_ . . .

No one spoke as Light pitched forward, landing across L, their bodies forming an X. The building still seemed to shudder. _Live . . . can't die can't die . . . let me live_ . . .

Moving as one through a shocked shinigami they could not see, Soichiro and Mogi crouched next to L and Light. Soichiro gripped his son by the shoulders, peeling him back, rocking him, repeating his name, shouts alternating with murmurs. Light's face was frozen, eyes wide as if pinned, lips still pulled back from his teeth, skin paling by the second. Mogi pulled L from Light's grip, feeling for a pulse at his neck, staring at his softened features before looking up to watch Soichiro as he wept, L and Light divided between them, yin and yang split right down to the atom.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Fallout

The sound of a door unlatching and swinging open to hit a wall echoed around him, and he spun to face the hall opening next to the elevator, nearly dropping his brand new phone. "What the hell is going on? It sounded like an explosion up there! I almost ran out of here when the alarms started, but I didn't want to leave you behind – good thing you guys were safe underground."

"Yeah, that's not where . . ." He trailed off, breathing hard as though he had been running.

"Wait – you were _up_ there?" Ide gaped at him. "Aizawa, what the –" Ide stopped, wary of his friend's wrung-out expression and heavy breathing. "What happened?"

"It's . . . it's bad." Aizawa paused, eyes not seeming to see Ide as he placed one hand against his side, still catching his breath. "They're . . . L and Light are . . . both dead." His voice sounded hoarse. "They had . . . heart attacks."

"_What?_" Ide didn't feel his phone slip from his fingers to clatter on the floor. "Holy crap, Kira killed them _both?_"

"I don't know. That's how it looks, but . . ." Aizawa rubbed his forehead, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "It makes no sense. Too much about this just . . . doesn't add up. Just before L died, he said something about a shinigami, or he tried to, but . . . the way they died . . ."

"What is it?" Ide had never seen his friend like this before.

Aizawa's eyes locked with Ide's for a moment before staring into space again. "When L died, he seemed to go peacefully. He was standing when it hit him . . . when he fell, Light caught him. I don't even know if they said anything to each other, the noise was so loud, but when L's eyes closed . . . I'd never seen him so serene. He looked . . . like a sleeping child, almost smiling. Then Light . . ." Aizawa frowned. "He started shouting." Aizawa glanced quickly at Ide. "He . . . he already seemed different when I got back to HQ, but seeing him crouched over L's body, yelling – it was like . . . watching an animal with its prey. Then it hit him too, and I'd never seen him so surprised. He didn't even get the chance to stand back up. His face, at the end . . . he must have been terrified."

"Well, no shit – who the hell wants to die?" Ide regretted saying anything as Aizawa glared at him.

"I guess I left out the part where Light incriminated himself right before this all happened." Aizawa bit out.

Ide scratched at his temple. "Well . . . if Light was Kira's _pawn_, Kira might have killed him to keep him quiet if L was already taken care of . . ."

"Maybe." Aizawa's mouth was a thin line.

"Still, it means we were both wrong."

"Huh?" Aizawa's eyes met Ide's, expression baffled.

"If they're both dead of a heart attack, killed by Kira, then _neither_ of them was Kira." Ide swallowed.

"Yeah, I guess . . ."

"So I'm sorry I doubted you. And . . . L." Ide added grudgingly. "Truce?" He extended a hand.

Aizawa's head tilted back, and he seemed for a moment to be on the verge of laughter, a jarring incongruity considering their circumstances, before his face twisted the other way, making him look older. He reached out and shook Ide's hand. "Truce. Not that we were ever against each other in the first place."

Ide sighed with a relief he hadn't known he'd needed. "Now are you gonna tell me what all the noise is about?"

Aizawa's grimace deepened. "We can't go to the roof to check – all the cameras are blown out up there – but . . . there's a helipad, and apparently Watari was coming back by helicopter . . ."

Ide's eyes widened further. "Him too? Holy . . . Was it Kira, or –"

"We don't know. We can't even be sure it was him yet, let alone why the crash happened. By the sound of it . . . I don't think it was a bomb. We called the NPA, and the fire department is on the way, but . . . they're going to have to combat the fire from the air before we can investigate anything, and even then, I don't know how much will be left. Even if we could get up there right now, there's no way it would be safe until the fire is out. Between the crash and the burning fuel . . ."

"Shouldn't we get the hell out of here then?" Ide was trying not to worry, trying to process everything, and finally noticing with annoyance that he had dropped his phone.

"Yeah – they're all coming down, bringing the . . . bodies down through the garage. We had to take the stairs, since the elevators would be dangerous even if they worked. Matsuda said he had to get someone first – I don't know who, but . . . he went upstairs to get them. The Chief seemed pretty out of it." Aizawa sighed, frowning at the floor. "I came out this way to get you – one of them will pick us up out front."

_Bodies_, Ide thought. _Fuck. Death feels like it's everywhere tonight_. "Then I guess we better move it." Ide shoved his probably broken phone into his pocket as he shoved his thoughts to the back of his mind, turning for the glass doors.

"It's a lucky thing that this building is so sturdy. Otherwise, we might _all_ be dead right now." Aizawa sounded weary, almost like the Chief.

"Huh. Yeah, lucky us."

They walked out into evening, smoke hidden in a dark sky, unready for dawn.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: 1. Please don't kill me.

2. It's not over yet! The final chapter, still to come, will actually be the longest, and it's where L's plans come to fruition. There are consequences he did not foresee, but . . . well, to say more would spoil it.

3. Seriously, please don't kill me.

As I said in an AN a few chapters back, I did not plan to end things this way any more than I planned Ryuk's sudden departure – his leaving, in fact, forced a choice to be made, a choice I basically left up to L. Characterization is the most important aspect of this fic to me, and I couldn't force the characters to follow a plot where it didn't fit who they were or what they would do. As it happens, L's death in canon seemed OOC to me, in that his 'back-up plan' was basically to let his teen successors start the case from scratch on their own. I suppose this is my answer to that, my alternate end to a story I didn't start.

Life is messy. Death, being a part of life as its conclusion, is messy too. There are always repercussions.


	28. Turn to Return

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, finding a way to meet Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairings; spoilers through end of series.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Chapter 28: Turn to Return

Reckoner

Two days ago. Her scheduled day of reckoning had come and gone. For fifteen days, she had sat in the same room, much larger than her cell. Sat, slept, waited, wept. The food she'd eaten but barely tasted, the cot they'd brought in for her, the toilet in the adjoining room – tools used in a blur, incongruous, irrelevant. At the end, they'd told her what they'd thought she would want to hear: she was free to go. Fifteen days. She had never been less sure of the decisions she had made than when they opened the door and escorted her out. Her execution had been waived, and she walked free, burdened with a life she did not want.

Unconfined, she found her feet taking her far from the jail – along sidewalks, onto buses, into trains, never acknowledging the people jostling around her – until she reached her destination, finally realizing what it was. She had never been to it before, but she had seen the pictures and heard the descriptions from her lawyer. She knew where to go now. The trail led up and around, each step pulling her forward with increasing urgency. As she rounded the last curve, she saw the small clearing and the bent red maple tree and knew that he was close.

Branches and leaves littered the area as she crunched toward him. She was not surprised that they didn't keep the grounds neat here – she had never been a woman of means, but she had spent what she had left for him. Everything had been for him.

She knelt down, brushing leaves away, clearing a cobweb with a branch. After a moment spent staring at grey stone in angled sunlight, she reached out, her fingers tracing the letters. "Takuo Shibuimaru." The rasp of her own voice nearly surprised her, but she continued to touch the stone as though it was his face. "My son."

Tears ran unheeded down her cheeks. This was as close to a home as she had left, but she knew she could not remain. When the sky turned amber, casting his name in shadow, she took her leave, his grave and the grounds around it tidier for her visit. She pressed her lips to the top of the arching stone and turned to take the path, winding her way back out, not looking behind her.

She was free, and she was hollow for it. She owed no one anything anymore, and so she sought her own solace, her own resolution. Taking the long walk through neighborhoods she faintly remembered, she found her mother's house, long since sold since her mother's funeral. She found herself sneaking through the fence like a truant schoolgirl, past the garden, and into the trees just beyond.

It was still there. The tall gingko tree with the rope swing she'd played on as a child. Years of disuse made the rope look rotten, but it held her weight, and she was free to swing again.

No one had told her that she could neither go to heaven nor hell after writing someone's name in a Death Note – no one had even told her what a Death Note was, let alone that she'd written on a page from it all those days ago – but had she known that nothingness would greet her instead, she would have felt something like happiness. Her vision tunneled down to nothing as her feet dragged the ground, daylight gone now, and she swung for the last time. Somewhere across town, the aging prison that had spat her loose breathed out, the cell in which she had resided for so long engulfed in gas fumes. Different locations, differing circumstances, but an end was an end was an end.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Long Time to Stand

_"Will you believe the truth when I die?"_

_"If Kira is an ordinary human being who somehow gained this power, he is a very unfortunate person."_

Light was dead, yet it was L's face he was seeing, his words echoing in his head. They crowded out everything else, everything except the question "Why?"

Soichiro slammed a fist onto his desk. He'd been so sure of his son, never more so than when he'd held his dying body. It was proof that Kira was someone else, if Light was having a heart attack. That was Kira's killing method – it couldn't possibly be a natural occurrence for someone as young as Light. Then again, Light had always done things beyond his years, beyond Soichiro's ability to understand.

When they had finally returned to HQ, after the fire was out, they had made a more thorough search than when they had left, seeking the shinigami without much hope for any resolution even if they had found her. Entering Watari's observation room, they'd found another Death Note – different markings on it, but otherwise the same – buried in what felt like a cross between sand and ash. They'd debated what it meant – another shinigami? But Aizawa had simply opened the notebook and begun reading, his brow furrowing as he'd turned it to show them the page: the last names written, in unfamiliar handwriting, were Quillish Wammy, L Lawliet, Light Yagami, and Kanz . . . almost certainly the beginning of Mogi's name, left incomplete. The shinigami herself had been nowhere to be found.

And still Soichiro had told himself that his son could not be Kira. _He died – how could he have been Kira if he died?_ Soichiro had raged at himself. He had wanted to believe that the real Kira had seen them somehow, or that the shinigami had acted on her own, or that Light had simply been caught in unfortunate circumstances, made a few terrible decisions, but not become a murderer.

The words he'd heard from Light that last day now surged into his head, roaring like flames, making him suddenly wish they had remained contained. _"I didn't need to burden anyone else with my feelings."_ Soichiro shook his head. "_You think you've won . . . but you will be punished by the god of the new world._" He tried to will the voice away. "_Dad – are you trying to say that I'm . . . not human?"_ The dream he'd had, of Higuchi's face morphing into Light's, returned to him with force, and his hands gripped his graying hair. "_If you want answers from a god, Ryuzaki, I'd say prayer is your best bet._" His hands shook. ". . . _unless there is another Kira_ . . ." Oh, how Soichiro had wanted to believe that. He wished he could still want to believe it.

The package had shattered everything – his belief, his resolve, his understanding, his memory of his only son. His copy of the report lay in front of him, already read and re-read, and the videotape still jutted from his old VCR, daring him to press it back in and see what he could not unsee. He'd placed the letter in his desk drawer, unable to bring himself to even look at the jagged handwriting again, let alone hear its unspoken forgiveness in his head. Just knowing when it had to have been written tore at him, as did the fact that he had not been trusted enough to be told in advance of what had been documented on the tape. _He was right not to trust me_, Soichiro thought; _he was right about all of it_.

Images of the woman sprung back to his mind, fighting for room with everything else. Her lined yet expressionless face as she bent to look at a photo and write on a page; the agent taking the page from her to hold in gloved hands in front of the camera, showing a name written there; the orange-garbed man in another room, clutching his chest and falling to the floor; the woman again, just sitting, waiting; the time stamp, always the time stamp, showing when these things happened, damning him as the woman left the room at last – these images, strung out before him, gave him the proof he'd never wanted to receive. _13 days, plus two to be sure_, he thought. Some criminal was free now because she'd dared to survive more than 13 days after writing a man's name on a page of the Death Note.

Soichiro wanted to dismiss it all – he wanted it to have been faked. _It was a page_, he'd thought upon his first viewing; _there is no notebook present_. _And the time stamp – L could have falsified it, made it look like she'd killed the prisoner when he'd died earlier!_ He wanted to believe it was all a ghoulish post-mortem attempt by L to damn his son with false evidence. He just couldn't make himself believe anymore.

L had always insisted on the need for solid proof in order to resolve the case, and he respected that, but in truth, during his career, Soichiro had not always done so. He had extracted suspect confessions with only circumstantial evidence, and he understood the value of instinct in addition to hard fact. If he had been faced with a Kira suspect who was not his son but who had behaved the same way and said the same things, he knew that he would have suspected such a person early in the investigation. He would have been highly motivated to test that person, gain a confession, and lock that person away. He felt sick. Despite what the others might tell him, he felt he'd been an obstacle to the investigation. He wondered, suddenly, if L had valued his obstinacy, since it had forced L to strive harder to find the solid proof he sought, enough proof to convince even the suspect's father. _Vanity_, Soichiro thought bitterly; _Light, and L and Watari, Ukita even, might still be alive if I had seen this sooner_.

Dropping his glasses on his desk, he felt tears jump to his eyes as his son's face swam back into his head, smiling yet aloof. _I could have helped you, Light_, he thought. _I could have stopped you, shown you where you went wrong_. Sobbing abruptly shook him like a storm, and his put his palms on his forehead, surprised that it was still in him to cry. His door was locked. He knew he would not be overheard – Sachiko was shopping, and Sayu was still at school. They didn't know what Light had been, only that he had died investigating Kira. He wondered what the others were thinking, looking at their copies of the evidence, or if they had yet to receive them. He'd turned his cell phone off hours ago, dreading even the sound of their voices. _Not yet_, he thought, amber sunlight leaving bright slashes across his desk and the back of his neck.

His family would come first. It was important to protect what he had left. If he could keep them happy by keeping all the misery to himself, he would. He owed them that and more.

Wiping his eyes with a handkerchief, Soichiro pushed away from the desk, leaning back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. L's words still burned within him. He wished that he could hate L. Having someone else to blame would take the paralyzing weight from his shoulders, give him motivation, something to fight, but he couldn't share the blame with anyone else – he felt it was his alone. If this misery was his punishment, it was light compared to what he would willingly inflict on himself. _I'll do as you ask, L_, he thought; _I'll do what I can, I promise_.

Soichiro took the time to marshal his feelings, knowing he would need to find the strength to do what needed to be done, not knowing what dark things might loom before him, or over him, like the wings of a monstrous crow.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Hindsight

He swore to himself that this was the last time he'd come here, and he swore that this time he meant it. He expected his clearance to be revoked soon – was surprised, in fact, that it hadn't been already – but he'd take what he could get to reach an understanding, to try and find some kind of peace.

The room was as he'd seen it last, some papers in disarray, but one tall, neat stack by his place on the wall-length desk. He considered taking it, as a way of explaining why he'd come here to the others. _It doesn't matter anymore_, he thought; _Matsuda was right after all – it was just busywork_.

Hesitating at the spot in the center of the room, Mogi remembered their faces, so different in death. Sleep had become elusive to him since then, and what little he did get was often interrupted by dreams of darkness and fire, crazy laughter, and the building collapsing around him before he woke, shouting. _If I'd known_ . . . he thought, _if he'd told me everything . . . could I have stopped it?_ Mogi ran a hand over his stubbled chin. _Or did he let it happen, just to prove it to us?_

He drew a ragged breath and walked into the hall. The door to Watari's observation room was still open, just as he'd left it the last time he'd come back here, the last time he'd said it was his last time. It was too quiet. He almost wished for the blaring noise of alarms or the rolling boom of an explosion to tear him from his thoughts.

It had been awful, lugging them down the stairs, the absence of life in the bodies brought jarringly home with each thudding step. Mogi had seen death before, but to hold the body of a man you'd known, the empty flesh limp and cooling, and carry it down several flights of shaking, red-lit stairs – the reality of it was inescapable. He'd remembered while descending how bitterly he'd complained about losing their data on the Kira case and had felt ashamed to have placed more value on that than on human life. And then he'd thought of the disagreement between Watari and L after the lockdown and nearly stumbled, realizing with renewed force that Watari had likely been killed as well. The rest of the night had passed in a blur. He hadn't checked his pockets until after he'd gotten home.

The glare of morning had been unforgiving as he'd unlocked his front door, and despite everything, Mogi had gone through his usual pattern of removing his shoes and going through his pockets before draping his suit jacket over a chair. His fingers had met the small square of folded paper and he'd wondered if he'd forgotten a shopping list there. Unfolding the inch-high strip and reading it had given him a shock. The handwriting, spikier than his own, had read, "Should I fall, please press the button on the back right of Watari's keyboard. Burn this note – do not write any names on it or show it to anyone. I am depending on you."

He'd stood there, staring, re-reading it, for several minutes. _When did he give this to me?_ he'd wondered. There had been no question in his mind who the note was from – he'd known that Mogi was the only one on the Task Force who knew about that button, and what it did. Mogi had grimaced at the irony of his having to do what he'd been upset with Watari for doing. And he'd realized with rising alarm that he'd have to go back to do it as soon as possible.

The moment the firefighters had given the word that the building was safe enough to re-enter, Mogi had headed right over. Unable to sleep, he'd been riding around in his car, listening to the police band for updates. He'd managed to get there before the rest of the Task Force. The elevators had still been unusable, but the power had remained on, and his palm print and retina scan had allowed him access as usual. Pulling gloves onto his shaking hands as he had reached HQ level, his feet hitting the floor heavily, Mogi had entered Watari's room, stepping around the incongruous pile of sand, tipping the keyboard toward him and pressing the button without hesitation. Just as it had before, "All Data Deleted" appeared on the center screen, red lights flashing. Losing what little additional data they'd collected might have bothered him slightly if he hadn't already known it had been backed up – or at least, he'd been willing to trust that it had been backed up as Watari had described before everything went to hell.

When the others had gotten to HQ that day, he'd told them that the message onscreen had been there when he'd arrived. "It must have been on a timer – it's the same message that showed when the building went into lockdown," he'd said. They'd accepted his explanation without question and had gone about searching the building for evidence of what had happened. Aizawa had found the other Death Note in the strange pile of ashen sand. Mogi had been so focused on avoiding the substance that it hadn't occurred to him to sift through it. Despite the revelation of the names written in the notebook, including a portion of his own, they'd found no answers to their questions then – no, those answers had still been days away.

Mogi stared now at where the sand had been. _How many are there, L?_ The thought nagged at him. _How many did you make deals with?_ He calculated that L must have slipped the note into his suit pocket after returning to HQ, when Misa was back in her rooms, but couldn't be sure of the exact moment. He'd followed his instructions as written, burning the slip of paper even before he'd returned to HQ that day to perform the task L had requested of him. At the time, it had not registered why L would ask him not to write any names on the note. _I should have known right away_ . . . Mogi chided himself, swallowing.

It had only become clear what kind of note it had been today, when he'd seen a large creature with black wings rise out of the roof of the Yagami house and straight up into the night sky. He didn't remember turning around on the spot, turning off his phone, or driving all the way back to the old HQ building, but he'd done so. And now he stood in an empty building, a shell of himself, wondering what the hell he was going to do.

His shuffled steps took him back into the main room, and he sighed. Reaching into a pocket, Mogi extracted the only fitting tribute he could think of, snagged from the groceries he'd forgotten to unload from his car. He placed it gently in the center of the floor: a single ripe strawberry. _I won't forget my promises, L,_ he thought; _I won't forget any of this, no matter how much I wish I could_.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Leverage

_November 20__th_

_Y –_

_If you are reading this, I am dead. I do not know if I will have had the chance to tell you these things in person, hence I am writing them down. I want you to know that I have genuinely appreciated all that you have done for the Kira case, and for me in particular. I know that you have made many sacrifices during the course of the investigation, but your dedication did not waver. Though I am pleased to report that the case has now been solved, I imagine you will receive this news with mixed feelings at best. I can only hope that you and your family will be able to make peace with the truth._

_There is a difference, I realize, between intelligence and wisdom. The latter requires the kind of perspective that can only be gained through direct experience over time. I think it is safe to say that I have – or had, at this point – more of the former than the latter and that you have more of the latter than the former. I do mean that as a compliment._

_Do you recall what you said in the hospital about Kira? To paraphrase, you said that a person who had somehow acquired Kira's power to kill was cursed and that it was the killing power itself that was evil. Given all that we have witnessed while working on this case, I would say that your assessment has been amply confirmed. The one thing I might add is that a person with Kira's power isn't the only one affected by such a curse – anyone who cares about that person would be affected as well. I am sure you already understand that, if the others do not._

_Whether I am dead by Kira's hand or by the hand of someone who has been manipulated by Kira, there is no doubt that my death was by Kira's will. I hope that you and the others know that I did not want to die and did what I could to prevent it, not merely for my own sake, but to continue my work. I know that I can rely on you, along with Mogi, Aizawa, and Matsuda, among others, to pursue justice in my absence, either with the NPA or by other means. As you must have deduced from my pre-recorded announcement, which should have aired by now, there will no longer be an "L" as such, despite what I said. My successors will have to find their own way and earn their place in the world as I once did. I have high hopes for them. I am sure you will apply your hard-earned wisdom in any dealings you may have with them._

_Regarding the notebooks, I have taken steps to ensure that they are destroyed. Do not be alarmed – I am certain that the rule stating that all those who have touched the notebook will die if it is destroyed is also a false rule. In fact, I would say that your being alive to read this note is proof of that. But I must caution you that there may be missing pages that have been hidden, which could still be used to kill, and possibly other notebooks of which we were unaware. I have asked Watari to search for and destroy any of these he can find, but if he is unable to do so for some reason, your help in this will be needed. You must give me your word that you will destroy any such pages and notebooks you find without hesitation. I recognize the absurdity of a dead man demanding a promise of a living one, considering that I cannot be there to hear your response, but I know you understand the danger here and what is at stake._

_I am sorry for leaving all this to a rushed note – I have limited time in which to explain. Please do not allow self-blame to impede the important work ahead of you. Too much has been lost already to stop trying now. Considering what has transpired, it is worth it to be thankful for those lives that have not been lost. We cannot let such things happen again. I hope that you, your family, and the others may now thrive with the lifting of this curse._

_May justice prevail._

_L_

Aizawa reread the letter. It was much longer than Soichiro's had been:

_Sachiko, Sayu – I'm sorry_.

When he'd arrived, the short note had been on Soichiro's desk, punctuated by a single drop of blood, but L's letter had been in a desk drawer – not hidden, exactly, but set aside. The gun had still been in Soichiro's hand. Anger and despair wrestled for dominance within Aizawa, and the more he thought about everything, the more anger started to win. _Why the hell would he kill himself now?_ Aizawa wondered; _it makes no sense_. He rubbed his forehead with the back of one arm, hands sweating inside his rubber gloves. _Considering the different ways people can be killed with a Death Note . . . could there be yet another Kira?_

Aizawa swallowed, feeling numb, turning back toward the open door. "Hey, Ide!"

"Yeah, what is it, boss?"

"Ugh – don't _call _me that."

"Hey, you know as well as I do that you're up for a promotion . . ." Ide said sheepishly as he came into view in the doorway.

"This isn't the time or place." Aizawa rubbed his eyes with the crook of his elbow, fending off a wave of nausea. "Do we have a recording handy of the announcement from yesterday morning?"

"I could probably get it on my mobile, but I'm betting the Chief would have . . ." Ide trailed off. "I'll go look and see if it's on the Yagamis' DVR."

"Thanks." Aizawa was glad that Sachiko had been able to take Sayu with her to Soichiro's brother's house. They had been pale and shaking in the wee hours of that morning when they'd left the house, police lights raking across their tear-stained faces as they'd hurried away. He had promised that they would be able to return once he'd ruled out the possibility of foul play, despite what it looked like, but he now wondered if he'd ever be able to rule it out.

"Yeah, they got it – do you want me to run it?" Ide's voice came from the livingroom.

"Hold on – I'll be right there." Aizawa hesitated for a moment before folding and pocketing L's letter and envelope. Though he couldn't be sure that neither Sachiko or Sayu had seen it, he knew none of the other officers processing the scene had, and he knew that Ide would keep it a secret if he asked. Stepping left to avoid the blood spatter, Aizawa exited the den and walked down the hall to the livingroom where sunlight streamed cheerily through the window in defiance of their circumstances.

Ide looked up as he entered, remote dangling from his fingertips. "Ready?"

Aizawa nodded. "Play it."

"Greetings. This is L. I am making this international broadcast to announce the following: Kira has been defeated. The power he wielded is no more, and both he and his accomplice, the second Kira, have been brought to justice. In exchange for the full cooperation of their families, I have agreed not to release their names. I realize that some of you will not be pleased by this, much as some of you will not be pleased to hear that Kira will no longer be 'punishing' criminals. I humbly suggest that you get over it. Kira supplanted his own will above that of every country's justice system, committing not just murder but terrorism against his fellow criminals and, indeed, all citizens of the world. His goal was not justice, but _power_. He took that power from the individuals he murdered, the populace he threatened, and the governments whose laws he defied. No one person should ever wield such power over so many.

"With this in mind, I would like to announce the addition of my successors to the field, the primary of whom will be known as M and N. Though I am not stepping aside as L, these detectives will be taking a more active role, and I know that they will prove their merit in cases to come. However people may have perceived my role, I have only ever been an assistant to law enforcement worldwide in the solution of difficult cases. I hope that their assistance will be welcomed as well. Only by working together can justice ever truly be served.

"One final thought, and let me be clear: Kira's defeat does _not_ mean that criminals are safe now. If anything, working on this case has strengthened my desire to see justice – true justice – done in the world. And with the resolution of this case, I suddenly appear to have a large amount of free time. No doubt my colleagues are experiencing a similar amount of availability – and by colleagues, I am not just referring to M and N but to every law enforcement official in every country. A murderer dared to try and do our job for us, and now that he is gone, we have a renewal of purpose. If you are a criminal, you have our full attention, and be assured: justice _will_ prevail."

The image of the black, Old English "L" on the white screen held for another moment before pixelating and snapping back to a shot of a flummoxed morning talk show host. Ide pressed stop.

Tapping his foot as he stood behind the couch, Aizawa stared into space. Ide stared at the remote. "How do we know that was really him?" Ide said, his voice quiet. "I mean, the guy died, what, 13, 14 days ago, right? If someone had some way of knowing that and faked L's broadcast . . ."

"No." Aizawa was blunt. "It was him. I can recognize the way he talks even with the voice modulator. He pre-recorded the message and had it set to be delivered yesterday and aired worldwide, possibly whether he'd died or not."

"How the hell do you know that?" Ide looked over his shoulder, eyebrow raised.

"Well, it definitely wasn't spelled out in any letter from L to the Chief, since there _was_ no such letter." Aizawa met Ide's eyes, making sure he understood.

"Heh – OK, gotcha boss." Ide nodded. "I hope you know what you're doing." He turned and set the remote back on the table.

"Me too." Aizawa muttered.

"Are we sure we got both Kiras?" Ide looked sidelong at Aizawa over a lampshade.

"Well . . ." Aizawa thought back to the nondescript manila envelope he'd received yesterday, just prior to the start of L's broadcast. "We have proof now that the 13 Day Rule was false. It was the only thing exonerating Light and Misa. Combined with the other evidence and what we found in Light's . . . possession," Aizawa squashed an expression of disgust, recalling the coroner's report and where the flashdrive containing surveillance video of L had been located, "there's no doubt in my mind that Light was Kira." They'd made sure to destroy the flashdrive, to prevent anyone other than the Task Force members from seeing L's face. _The man may be dead now, but we can at least keep his secrets_, he thought.

"Yeah, but . . . what about Amane?" Ide fiddled with a pen, not meeting Aizawa's eye.

"It's . . . I don't know. Kira could have written it in advance and specified a time." Aizawa frowned, remembering.

After the HQ building had been cleared, he'd found out that L had taken Misa back into custody, and that that was who Matsuda had gone to find when they had evacuated – it had been a shock to get into the car Matsuda had been driving and see her blindfolded in the backseat. Aizawa's growing suspicions of Light that day had eventually begun to draw his attention back to Misa as well – he knew that if she had been the second Kira, it meant that she had killed Ukita. Mogi had suggested later that day that they continue to confine her until it could be conclusively determined what her role had been, and they had all agreed. They had colluded in a lie, telling her that Light and "Ryuzaki" were working together to defeat Kira from a secret location, after an attack launched by Kira's minions, two of whom had been killed, made the HQ building unsafe – since another attack could occur, the Task Force had been asked to keep her safe in the meantime. Despite her protests, she had gone along with it, buying their story and allowing them to confine her.

Over a week later, Aizawa had been holding the new Death Note they'd found, staring again at the names written there, thinking to himself bitterly that one name was missing. _Can we be sure this is really another Death Note if we don't . . . test it?_ he'd wondered, hating himself for it. He'd actually found himself reaching for a pen when he'd stopped himself. _I can't do this_, he'd thought_; I'll be just as bad as Kira if I let myself do this even once. Whatever I might be willing to do, Ukita wouldn't want that for me, and neither would Eriko_. He'd blinked back tears when Mogi had re-entered the room, looking quizzical, and then they'd done what they'd intended and locked the notebook in the safe.

After he and Ide had finished processing most of the Yagami house, less than an hour ago, he'd gotten a strange call from Mogi. The larger man had seemed different somehow after the deaths of three more members of their team – Aizawa supposed that they were all different, for that matter – but his voice on the phone earlier had been disquieting, if calm. "The evidence we all received proves that the 13-Day Rule was false," Mogi had said, "but do we know if any of the other rules were false?" Having already read L's letter, Aizawa knew that the rule that everyone who touched the notebook would die if it was destroyed was also fake and had confirmed as much to him. He'd been chilled to the bone by Mogi's reply: "That's what I figured. I'm burning the other notebook we found as we speak." Too stunned to reply, he'd heard the man sign off and numbly closed his own phone. _If he'd been wrong_ . . . Aizawa shuddered.

The notebook they'd taken from Higuchi had never been recovered, and Aizawa wondered if it was still out there or if L had disposed of it as his letter indicated. If Watari had had it with him, it was long gone, burned to a crisp as the elder gentleman had been. They'd searched the building high and low, but never found it. If it was still out there somewhere, or if there was another Death Note . . .

"I don't think Light expected to die," Aizawa said, snapping himself back to the present. "Light may have decided that Amane was too much of a liability, but . . . if he'd planned to kill her, I'm surprised that he didn't have her die of something other than a heart attack. One minute she was eating ice cream and talking to Matsuda in confinement, and the next . . ." Aizawa gritted his teeth. "Also, if any pages were taken from the Death Note, they could still be used to kill."

"Great." Ide rolled his eyes, slumping. "Is this mess ever gonna be over?"

Aizawa exhaled sharply. "Is anything?"

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Yielding but a Dream

Silence enshrouded her like a favored blanket – it was too rare a thing not to savor, but it threatened to lull her to sleep, and she could not afford that. Her paper was nearly halfway done – she would have to hurry to finish it by the fast approaching dawn. She found herself longing for more coffee, but knew that if she left to get more, it would break her already tenuous concentration. _I have to finish this_, she thought; _I'll never live it down if I get a B in a class I need for one of my majors!_

She lifted her glasses off and rubbed her face with her other hand, arching her back to stretch before slumping forward in her seat again. The wooden chair was uncomfortable, but the bed would be _too_ comfortable. Sighing, she leaned back to open the mini-fridge, peering in despite knowing that the energy drinks would not have re-supplied themselves in the half hour since she'd last checked. She hated the taste of them anyway.

The laptop was quite warm to the touch, helpfully heating her fingers, though she worried that it might overheat and stop working. She remembered what had happened to the last one, and how she'd been able to get this one, and shivered. Her previous laptop going 'crazy' had been classic Kyoko, just her luck, but she'd carried on, going to the library to redo the work she'd lost. It hadn't been until two days later that she'd noticed the extra money in her account. She'd almost reported the error to the bank when she checked the source – and it had stopped her in her tracks, sending a chill straight through her.

_Did I really help terrorists?_ Kyoko wondered. _Why else would they pay me so much?_ She remembered the morning news 15 days ago reporting an explosion at a building downtown, which was later revealed to have been a helicopter accident. _What if it wasn't an accident?_ She hated the thought that Hideki Ryuga might have been involved somehow, and her mind shied away from it. _Maybe that other man took advantage of him_, she thought; _or maybe they were spies! They could have been trying to stop what happened – maybe they even stopped something we never heard about_ . . .

Kyoko shook herself. _I've got to stop getting distracted like this or I'll never finish_. But he was in her head again, and she knew she'd never be able to focus if she didn't look at it one more time. She'd removed it from her phone, but a copy was on her new laptop and the back-up flashdrive she used. With a fluttery feeling in her chest, she pulled up the file and it filled her screen. She gazed deeply, ready to click it closed if she so much as heard her roommate's key in the door.

He was in three-quarter profile, his jeans-clad knees just visible cresting the tabletop as he stared at his out-of-frame companion. Hair like black flame, skin like the cream he'd just sucked off of his finger, hand still in front of his face, fingers curved, blurred in descent, he hunched forward as if in concentration. The starless skies of his eyes were as powerful as the brightest light, threatening to pull her in if they swept her way. A ghosting of strawberries haunted his lips, his mouth still slightly open, and she wanted to touch them, wished she had touched him. She had not expected to see him that day, so rare had it become for him to appear on campus – for him to have entered her favorite local haunt was miracle enough. She _really_ had not expected to speak with him.

The older man had noticed her noticing him, but she had managed to use her laptop like a shield, blocking his view and snapping the quick photo with her phone. Despite the relatively dim light in the coffee shop, her lack of a flash, and her nervousness, the picture had come out clear, though the edge of her laptop had blurred out the left edge of the photo. "My Ryuga," she whispered, wishing that she could hear his low, smooth voice again, wishing that she could feel his warmth as he slipped behind her as he had when he'd left that day. She'd have given just about anything for a taste of him – even the tiniest dollop would not have been wasted on her lips. It was the last time she'd seen him, and she held tight to the memory to tide her over until the next time.

Pulling herself out of her reverie, she clicked the file closed, chiding herself. _I don't have time for this now!_ Kyoko thought. She'd already decided that she was going to be bolder – Ryuga's attendance patterns may have been random and rare, but she knew she'd notice when he returned. She was good at watching. She knew he didn't live on campus, whatever he may have implied to that man. Kyoko had every intention of going right up to Ryuga and actually talking to him. A blush warmed her cheeks. _It won't be weird at all_, she thought; _I know him now!_

She brought her paper back up onscreen, willing herself not to be further distracted, especially not by the rumors linking him to Misa Amane. Kyoko didn't care what Tubbins or his buddies said – there was no way those two were dating. _I remember her accusing him of touching her that day back in May_, she thought, remembering also how close he'd stood to her then, close enough to catch the sweet scent of his hair as she'd stared at the way his jutting shoulder blades and vertebrae disturbed the drape of his white shirt. _Even if he did it, I bet he was just a fan of hers, like I used to be_. _That jerk Iwai probably just made up that story about them – Misa-Misa would be too stuck-up to like Ryuga anyway, unless she's with that other Ryuga_. "Pics or it didn't happen!" she'd posted on Tubbins' blog, To-Oh Xposed. Kyoko shook her head forcefully. _Stop thinking about it!_

Rearranging her scribbled notes, she dragged her eyes back to her paper onscreen. The line she'd left off at read: "Philostrate is no mere 'manager of mirth' as Theseus puts it; he is a manipulator intent on curbing the enjoyment of all present and bending their whims to his own, all in the name of social propriety, daring to tell them what they should want." She wasn't sure why she'd chosen to take the Shakespeare class her freshman year, but she was glad now, late nights working on papers be damned. As hard as some of it had been to understand at first, the effort she'd expended had made her eventual epiphanies that much sweeter. Kyoko loved the fanciful and absurd romances of A Midsummer Night's Dream, but she loved that it was a showcase for real human frailties even more.

Darkness still reined outside, but it wouldn't for much longer. Breathing deeply, Kyoko bent to her task, hunching slightly. The tapping of keys, soft, like rain at the window, filled the room once more as she lost herself in the writing, fingers darting, eyes straining, desperate to beat the dawn.

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Disterra Nullius

Abruptly, he became aware of his surroundings, images stabbing into his consciousness. He opted to remain still, scanning the periphery of the landscape without moving even his eyes. There was nearly no color, just a flattened grey plain studded with the occasional rock, bit of scrub, or huddled mass. He would have said it was bleak, but he had nothing to which to compare it as he had no memories, or at least no memories of who he was or what he had done up until this moment.

Detecting distant movement, he stayed frozen in place, unsure as to why he would be concerned about whether he was being watched. He supposed that he preferred to be the one doing the watching. Still in his crouched position in the dust, he attempted to view himself. His hands were skeletal – literally. Fleshless and white with sharp tips, they rested on his knees, which were clad in a black fabric or substance that seemed to have trails of odd symbols in blue. Above the wrists, white straps wrapped his arms, with at least one silvery buckle in view as he strained to see through the bottom-most edge of his vision. His feet were mostly blocked by his legs, but one toe – or talon, by the look of it – showed in sharp contrast against the grey ground and he guessed that they must be as bony as his hands.

A crunching noise seemed to be getting closer, and he waited, surmising that the movement he'd sensed earlier was its source. He wondered if it had slipped behind him, and his back itched from wanting to turn and look. The sound grew and then seemed to recede a bit.

"Well, well, well – look what we have here." The voice carried faintly, as the crunching slowed to a stop. "It's going to start getting crowded at this rate!" To his left, a jewel-encrusted creature was speaking, but not to him.

"Eh, leave him alone. He's not even awake – he's not gonna do anything interesting yet." Another creature spoke, further to his left, a crouched black form he'd mistaken for a part of the landscape, if not for the strange name floating above it, facing away from them as the first creature turned and came closer to him.

"Perhaps I'll snap him out of it, then." The jewel-encrusted creature had a name floating above its head as well: Armonia Justin Beyondormason. It seemed absurdly long compared to the second creature's name, Ryuk.

"Yeah, that'll work." Ryuk was derisive. "It's not like I've tried that about a hundred times already."

The first creature chuckled, pausing, half-turned, to speak at the distant lump of black. "How is it you know so little about our kind and yet somehow still survive? Do you even know anything about our origins?"

"Meh. I know the Old Man chooses the new ones – I don't really care about the rest of it."

"Oh really?' Beyondormason sounded smug. "What a pity. If you'd shown more interest in such details, you would have known why your little pet couldn't follow you here. I'll do you a favor and tell you: the King can choose anyone who was killed by a Note, but not anyone who ever _used_ a Note. There, feel better now?"

"Whatever."

"He's bound to wake up soon. I intend to be here when he does." The jeweled creature resumed its movement toward him. "It will be the perfect time to recruit him for our little game."

"What, are you afraid Zellogi will get to him first?" Ryuk looked over its shoulder, revealing a pale corpse-like face with shark-like teeth in an exaggerated mouth. "Not everyone likes to gamble, you know."

"Oh, there are certainly some exceptions," Beyondormason seemed to be glaring, not slowing its pace, "but thankfully most of us know how to have a good time."

"Heh – yeah, if by 'good' you mean 'boring.'" Ryuk looked away, feathered tufts jutting from its shoulders. It seemed strange that a creature so bored was doing nothing to alleviate its boredom.

"Ha! If you'd bothered to learn all the rules, you might have an easier time winning, and thus it would be less 'boring' to you." Beyondormason swung its head forward to face him at it stopped a short distance away, dropping to a crouch in front of him, beaded chains clinking against his neck plate. "Oh, you're _awake_ now, aren't you?" The creature chortled low in its throat. "I'd be happy to teach _you_ the rules of our game. It'll help pass the time."

Moving his mouth experimentally, he traced his tongue along the inside of his apparently sharp and numerous teeth – the incisors felt especially prominent, and he wondered if they would impede his speech. He reached up and touched his face with one hand, meeting a smooth surface only slightly more pliable than bone, and rested a forefinger at his chin. Though he would have liked to get away from the bickering creatures, he was tempted to learn more about this supposed game. He decided that it would have to be on his terms, however. "I would very much like to learn the rules of this game, but it will have to wait." His own voice sounded strange to him, low and smooth, not raspy like that of the other two creatures. "I have exploring to do." He felt something like the impulse of a smile and was amused to note an expression resembling revulsion on the jeweled creature's face.

"Do as you wish, but remember that I asked you first."

"Oh, I'll remember." He felt that strange impulse of a smile expanding and reached up to trace an incisor with his finger, raising himself to stand, slightly stooped, as he stared at Beyondormason.

The jeweled creature huffed, standing and turning to stalk away in its jerky bowlegged gait. "Suit yourself," it growled, not looking back.

Glancing down for a better view of himself, now that he no longer had to pretend any sort of unconsciousness, he flexed his hands, noting that they looked almost delicate but felt quite strong. The white straps were wrapped tight across his wiry torso as well as winding down each arm, metal buckles standing out at odd intervals, and a black ring strap formed an X across his chest. A heavy chain draped his waist, handcuffs joining at the front – on one side of the chain, an ornate key dangled, and on the other side, a strange square holster held what looked like a book. He stared at the symbols in blue meandering columns along the dark material that clung to his jutting hipbones, enshrouding his legs, wishing he could read them. His feet, as he'd guessed, had the appearance of large talons, black claws sprung from white bones.

He slipped both hands over his face, fingertips feeling the smooth surface as he went. His jaws jutted forward, forming a kind of muzzle, his nose was barely more than a hole, and his eye sockets were wide. Finally, he felt his fingers burrow into a thick mane springing wild from his scalp. On impulse, he plucked out a single hair, holding it in front of him as his other hand reached behind him to trace the mane to where it trailed off in a V where his neck met his back. _Black_. He stared at the strand, eyes glowing sapphire, as though it might hold some clue to his identity.

With the jeweled creature now out of range, he swiveled his gaze to Ryuk, who was still facing away from him. "So, do you dislike gambling, or just the gamblers?"

"Heh heh heh." The black spiky creature stood as well, unfolding itself from its huddle before turning to meet his eye from a distance, the creature's face a caricature, a jeering clown. "Does it matter?"

He stared, unblinking, his thumb pressed to his bottom teeth. "Everything matters."

Ryuk suddenly roared with laughter, first bending forward to clasp its knees and then rearing back, jagged mouth open to the grey sky. It took awhile for the creature to regain its composure, and he regarded it with diminishing patience. Slowly loping over to him with a bow-legged gait, it closed the distance and brought its face quite close to his. "I couldn't be completely sure before, but . . ." it dropped its voice to a raspy whisper, "I know who you are."

He felt his eyes widen as the creature began laughing again, but quickly thought better of his rising excitement. _This 'Ryuk' is clearly referring to something more than just my name_, he thought. "Even if you do know me, you're obviously not going to tell me anything useful or truthful."

"Heh heh, probably not, but you never know, kid."

His eyes narrowed. "Why would you refer to me as a child?"

"I _should_ refer to you as an infant, since that's how new you are here, so count your blessings, _kid_." Ryuk put extra emphasis on the word, seeming to relish the annoyance it was causing as it looked him up and down.

"If I am 'new' here as you say, then how could you possibly know me?"

"Maybe I knew you when you were somewhere else – or maybe I can just see through you." The creature's face seemed stuck in a permanent leer.

"Or maybe you're bluffing to cover the fact that you know nothing." He kept his eyes on the other's face, taking in its reactions as they spoke.

"Believe what you want, but . . ." Ryuk's eyes went from yellow with small pupils to red glowing orbs, "if anyone can figure it out, I'd bet you can."

He felt the smile touching his face again and saw the creature's grin falter slightly. "So you're a gambler after all. Interesting." He pushed past Ryuk, slouching off, toward what he was not sure, and then stopped for a moment, back still turned to it. "Are there any others who are new here?"

"Heh. Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to find out?"

He found himself chuckling, the low rhythmic hum of it tickling his throat. "Thank you for the confirmation, Ryuk." The clawed tips of his talons dragged in the dust as he resumed his walk. He wanted to ask what his own name was, but didn't bother. _Ryuk obviously has no intention of helping me_, he thought. _If I ask it, it will lie_.

"Hey, kid," Ryuk called at his back, "this may not have been your plan, but it looks like you got what you asked for anyway."

He frowned, pausing in mid-step, steeling himself for an unhelpful answer. "And what might that be?"

"Check your belt."

His fingers made their way to his chain. _So . . . this creature wants me to believe that I asked for either a key or a book?_ He stared down at the items. The key looked more decorative than useful, though it might still fit a lock somewhere. Unholstering the book, he opened it, thumbing through the pages – all blank. There was a pen in the holster as well, nearly as ornate as the key but fitting his hand comfortably. He shut the book with a clap, staring at its cover for a moment. The silvery symbol gleamed on the black surface, a symbol that was among those running up and down his legs. He knew it should mean something to him, knew it meant something more than just an eight on its side.

"I cannot imagine wanting any of these things, Ryuk, let alone asking for them."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, kid."

Shuffling away, the cool dry silt of the world he was coming to know felt pleasant enough on his bare bony feet. He surveyed the landscape once more, trying to puzzle out details in distant forms, hunched forward as he swept the plain with his gaze. Hearing voices as he walked, he inclined his head and beheld a stone arch, revealed now that he was not seeing it edge-on, near which several creatures were gathered in a semi-circle. The jeweled creature was among them. _Not yet_, he thought, making a note of their names and continuing along, scanning his surroundings.

A large, rounded creature that looked initially like a speckled greenish-grey rock suddenly stretched and rolled over, apparently napping, its tail raising dust as it swept to its new position. _Is this how we live_, he thought, _sprawled out in dust, open to the elements?_ As he thought it, though, he realized that the cool temperature of the place did not affect him much, and wondered in turn, if he had no memories, then from where did his expectations spring? He resolved to find out the nature of this place, and his own nature as well.

Rushing sounds passed above him, and he looked up to see another creature flying by, improbably spindly wings somehow suspending it, an odd beehive-like head and large brown body being the only details he was able to discern as it moved quickly away. _I wonder_ . . .

He stretched his back and felt a tickle, but no result. Then he simply thought of flying and . . . pushed with his shoulder blades. The sensation was disconcerting at first, but when he looked behind himself, he was gratified to see that he did, indeed, have wings as well. _Retractable_, he thought; _how convenient_. He flexed them experimentally, watching over his shoulder as the black-flecked white feathers on exposed bones extended to their full span and then folded back. Determined, he made them do his bidding and found himself rising as they flapped, dust swirling below him. _I'll have a better view now and make more progress_, he thought, climbing higher and gliding along.

Mound after mound passed below him as he flew, most of them rocks rather than creatures, and some of the rocks seeming to have an indentation or hole in them. The monotony of the view soon robbed him of the joy of flying, but he kept at it, hoping that something would capture his interest.

Two creatures huddled near one of the larger rocks – he had almost passed them by when he noticed a faint glow illuminating them, from the direction of the rock. Curious, he decided to take his own gamble and descended, circling once, folding his wings back at the last moment to land in a crouch.

The rock was larger than it had appeared from the air, and as he walked up, he saw that it was hollow, the broken opening gaping wide, the heads of the two creatures within it as they stared downward, pale bluish light bathing them. He moved just a bit closer, wanting a glimpse of what they were observing but wondering if it was some kind of trap.

"Nice of you to join us!" One of the creatures rushed to greet him, rearing up on its hindmost legs. "I see you've learned to fly already – how clever. Do you like your new home so far?"

"I . . . do not have enough information yet to make an assessment." Continuing to shuffle forward, he thought the creature addressing him seemed stranger than the others he'd seen so far. Its body was wreathed in occasional wisps of dark smoke, which did not do much to conceal its many angled limbs, the legs bent at sharp angles pointing skyward from its horizontal torso, from which dangled a woven red belt with a book holster of its own and some crudely formed dolls. The front two limbs were different, ending in stiff hooked appendages, and its face was a darkened bird-like skull with red glowing eyes. _It is as if someone with a bad memory tried to build a centipede out of charred human bones and stuck a giant vulture's head on it_, he thought, wondering abruptly how he knew anything of centipedes or humans or vultures. The name hovering above it was Daarop.

"Information is nothing without context." The insect-like creature ran in a circle around him, the motion surprisingly quick, a rapid clicking noise accompanying its movements.

"Mm, yet context itself cannot be built without information," he commented drily, focusing on the hollow rock now that he was closer to it. He took a few more steps, almost passing the other creature there, stopping only when it spun to face him.

The other creature stood ramrod straight and seemed to be sheathed entirely in black leather. It was bipedal, thin, and nearly as tall as he was, with straight black hair that fell to its ankles, sometimes swirling around its legs or flying off to one side as though it was a separate creature itself. Clutching its own book, still in its holster, it stared at him from empty eye sockets, its smooth face matching the color of its hair, an ebon sentinel. There was no mouth. He tilted his head, unable to keep from staring at the blank expanse under the hole of its nose, and wondered if it used sign language to communicate. His eyes flicked upward to read its name: Jiai. Without warning, its eyes sparked green, glowing, and he felt the ruff of hair on the back of his neck rise.

"_Welcome_." The creature's voice was ticklish, as if vibrating the air inside his ears.

"Thank you." He stared a moment longer, noting a certain curve to its torso, and considered the possibility that this creature might be female. "Are the two of you newcomers as well?"

"Not as new as you!" Daarop reared up, legs clicking.

"Mm. What is inside that opening?" he asked Jiai, ignoring the insect-like creature.

"_A portal to the human world_." The tickling came again as the leathery creature returned its gaze to it.

He turned as well, bending to look into the orifice. The view was clouded, but if he concentrated, he could see another land, more brightly colored, with other creatures moving in it. _Humans, naturally_, he thought, trying to place why they seemed so strange to him. He focused, feeling himself squint, and found that he could see their names as well, and their lifespans.

"Just like looking into a candy store, isn't it?" Daarop leered over his shoulder.

The thought of candy gave him an inexplicable pang of longing. He pushed the feeling from his mind as he stared from one world to another, captivated.

"You don't know your name yet." Daarop mocked.

Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from the view. "Were there any reflective surfaces here, I'm certain I could remedy that."

"Henh, henh, henh!" Daarop emitted a strange, breathy laugh, falling back to roll in the dust, legs flailing. "That's what _she_ thought when she got here, but that's not how it works!"

_Well, at least that confirms my suspicion regarding gender in one case_, he thought.

"_He claims he knew his name the moment he arrived_," came the tickling, "_but it is different for each shinigami_."

"Hey! Don't give _everything_ away . . ." Daarop griped, re-righting himself.

_So we are . . . shinigami, and the other is male_, he thought; _interesting_. The forefinger of one claw crooked over his smooth chin as he considered a possibility. "You were . . . given names?" he asked.

"Everyone has a name – it's just a matter of seeing it." Daarop seemed amused somehow, legs clicking again, moving closer to face him. "Do you want me to tell you what I see?"

He narrowed his eyes. _He's bluffing_, he thought, _trying to gain control_. "Why should I let you name me?" Both creatures stilled, and he decided he'd guessed right. "I will choose my own name."

"What makes you think they'll let you?" Daarop's tone was guarded now.

"It will hardly matter if I refuse to respond to any name not of my choosing." He fingered an incisor, thinking. Though he felt the ache of the absence of personal knowledge, he realized that it gave him a chance to forge his own destiny. "I will be called Llyw-eilun."

"Pfft! If you think I'm gonna call you that, you –"

"It is irrelevant what you choose to call me." He cut Daarop off. "That is my name now, like it or not."

"_It suits you, Llyw-eilun_." Jiai seemed amused, glancing up above his head and nodding before turning again to look into the portal, her erstwhile companion grumbling to himself.

He returned his attention to it as well, experimenting with zooming in on different humans in different places, seeing how well he could see. His gaze was a tenuous thread linking him to the living world below, and he suddenly yearned to follow that thread, tracing it all the way down, riding it through the clouds until the soil of a new world was tangible beneath his feet. The feeling was unaccountable – he had no context for it – but it was clear to him that he was not the only one who felt it.

"So . . . when shall we go?" He looked over his hunched shoulders at his two companions.

"_Soon_." The tickling returned.

"Henh, henh, henh, henh . . ." The clicking of many legs made a parody of applause and a wind stirred up dust around them. The human world, bright, shining, and just out of reach, hung below them like an apple on a tree.

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Outro

_Ten days. Ten days from the time Higuchi, the supposed Kira, was caught and died until the true Kira, Light Yagami, died before being caught. It's been fifteen days since then, and two days since your announcement, and still I wonder where you placed the fulcrum, L, and which action tipped the balance first. It is a case I need not solve, not after having been helpfully volunteered to be an 'assistant' to justice, but I will put it together, piece by piece. I will search for every infinitesimal bit of information and fill in every gap. It is the least I can do, if not to complete your legacy, then perhaps to begin my own. The contest is irrelevant, as is any thought of surpassing you, but the solution to the puzzle will form the key to unlock what I must now achieve_.

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Author's Note: I almost put this up last night, but then I decided I wanted to sleep on it and review it again. I'm glad I did – there were a few things I caught and changed. Though I erred on the side of giving too much information in this, there are some things I deliberately left vague. This chapter is long, and I briefly considered breaking it in two, but I didn't have the heart to drag it out, and I really felt that all of these disparate sections belonged together.

Success does not ensure survival, and death is not the same as defeat. Something I noticed in both the manga and anime of Death Note is that L was willing to die to achieve his goals, but Light was not. Light spoke of making a sacrifice after he'd made his second kill, but once he realized that Ryuk wasn't going to kill him on the spot, he got used to the idea of staying alive to create his perfect world. I'm not sure that being willing to die to achieve something is ideal, but their differences were as sharp as their similarities – it's what made the interactions between L and Light so compelling.

Regarding the new shinigami, I agonized a little over their names, going back and forth over which was more important, the meaning, the sound, or whether they started with the letter(s) by which we knew their human forms. I ultimately decided that while the meaning was most important, there was no reason not to have some fun with them, and except in the case of L, I didn't insist on keeping the first initial the same. The rudimentary definitions are: Daarop is a Dutch word meaning beyond; Jiai is a Japanese word meaning kindness; and Llyw-eilun (pronounced "loo-ELL-un") is an old Welsh name meaning lion-like, lightning-like ruler. Oh, and remember awhile back when I said I sorta blew my own mind with something in this section? It was when I decided which symbol would go on Llyw-eilun's Death Note: the sideways 8, which is the symbol for infinity. I know, I get excited about weird things, but just the fact that it had been right there, mocking me from the title, before I even knew how this would end – zoinks.

You may have noticed that this end leaves open the possibility of a sequel. I have some . . . semi-formed ideas on one, but absolutely nothing is written yet. I'd like those ideas to percolate a bit before I start writing a sequel to this fic, and odds are I won't start on it until after the winter holidays. I can tell you that it would involve a certain trio of Wammy Boys, as well as the trio of newly minted shinigami, not to mention numerous other Death Note characters, some of whom I've written about and some of whom I haven't. (Hmm, and perhaps instead of a running theme of parallels, there will be one of trios.) In the interim, I will likely put out the occasional shorter fic, including some things that could be considered supplemental to Turn of the 8th Day. I'll try to remember to indicate which ones are meant to fit and which aren't.

Thank you so much to everyone who has read this. And a special thank you to everyone who reviewed or sent me messages about this fic – I really appreciated hearing your input. It helped motivate me to get this as right as I could make it, and to post it as quickly as I could. I intend to add a sort of addendum/appendix/final word to this, including responses to any questions, if people ask any. I'll put the song list in that for anyone who's interested.


	29. Appendix & Epilogia

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary; L knew there was a 2nd Death Note. Higuchi died & L set a plan in motion, watching Misa, finding a way to meet Ryuk, trying to defeat Kira. Slight AU/AR; rated T for language and nudity; peripheral pairings; spoilers through end of series.

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**Turn of the 8****th**** Day**

Appendix & Epilogia

This is sort of an appendix to the story Turn of the 8th Day – primarily a collection of supplementary information relating to this fic, plus some epilogue-esque details for some of the characters (hence Epilogia, a word I just made up). There are also some thank yous and a final author's note, including a completely self-indulgent conversation between myself and L. Afterthoughts, I suppose, and ruminations on things to come. UPDATED: in part because it dropped out the name of one of my reviewers (grr, bad document converter), but also to add some things, including section breaks that don't disappear (I hope) and a shout-out to someone who made some art for this fic! ^_^

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Some details it may interest you to know, but which I did not include in the story itself (because while they add to characterization, they're not strictly necessary to the story):

Tubbins is a student at To-Oh of European descent who grew up in Japan – he has curly brown hair, blue eyes, and glasses, and he began referring to himself as Tubbins as a pre-emptive self-deprecating move to head off derision from schoolmates about his weight (thicker than average, but not rotund). He's funny and charismatic, but also kind of a dick. The notoriety he's gotten from his blog, To-Oh Xposed, has started to go to his head.

Daisuke Sakamoto totally has a crush on Haruna Mori, but he thinks she doesn't know. Mori _does_ know, but doesn't want to acknowledge it because she likes him only as a friend. Akuma Iwai knows none of this, but if he did, he wouldn't care.

Soichiro has a younger brother – Sachiko and Sayu go to stay with him after Soichiro dies – but Sachiko is an only child.

_The Trial_, by Franz Kafka, which Sachiko is reading, is about a man who is accused of and put on trial for a crime but is never told what the crime is. It's a dry read, and fairly depressing, but I read somewhere that Kafka used to read his work, including excerpts from _The Trial_, to his friends at parties where he and they would laugh about them – which puts an interesting, and possibly darker, spin on it. I kept that in mind while writing Sachiko, imagining her as being savvy and twisted enough inside to laugh at a man who comes to believe he is guilty of a crime even though he never finds out what it was.

Though I do not make this clear within the narrative, and it's fine if readers want to visualize things a different way, in the relationship between Namikawa and Mido, Namikawa is what is termed a "bossy bottom."

The contents of the package Roger received from L will enable him to retrieve L's remote computer and (with help from the Wammy boys) access the backed-up information from the Kira case. Roger also received a second package containing the report from the prison and the original Death Note page on which the prisoner wrote, with advice on who should be allowed to touch it and instructions for its destruction.

Wedy does regain consciousness and is able to leave with Aiber after a few days, but neither of them knows what happened to Watari and L. (When I do the sequel, odds are I'll touch on this more.)

Now that shinigami L's name is Llyw-eilun ("loo-ELL-un"), odds are B will call him 'Lu-Lu' to annoy him. Also, just in case it wasn't clear, Llyw-eilun's appearance is meant to be an anthropomorphic amalgam of lion and snowy owl, though corpse-like to befit a shinigami, with his coloring being primarily black and white with hints of blue and silver. And regarding B's (aka Daarop's) resemblance to a centipede: I'm referring to House Centipedes, not the kind you'd find in a rain forest. Image-Google them if you're curious, but they are kinda creepy.

As you may have gathered from the Outro, Near is none too pleased at being dubbed an assistant by L, so you can imagine how Mello might feel. This was as L intended. ^_^ I'll stop with the potential sequel teasers now before I paint myself into a corner.

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Wedy's Rules (some of them):

Rule #1 – Safety first; money second.

Rule #2 – Always have two exit strategies ready before entering.

Rule #3 – Leave no evidence behind.

Rule #4 – Take only what you came for.

Rule #5 – When in doubt, get the fuck out.

Rule #9 – Don't break into the same place more than twice.

Rule #13 – Never depend on "luck"

Rule #19 – Don't harm anyone who has neither threatened nor harmed you.

Rule #22 – Work alone whenever possible.

Rule #26 – Always have a credible backstory, and at least one back-up backstory.

Rule #31 – Seek the unexpected target.

Rule #37 – Never fuck a partner, literally or figuratively.

Rule #42 – Don't read too much meaning into the meanings of things.

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Character theme songs as I heard them:

Canon Characters;

L – "Jigsaw Falling into Place" (Radiohead), "Riddle" (Lake Trout)

Ryuk – "Haunted Heaven" (Giraffes), "Sleep Is Wrong" (Sleepytime Gorilla Museum)

Light – "Vicarious" (Tool), "Heads Will Roll" (Yeah Yeah Yeahs)

Rem – "Your Protector" (Fleet Foxes)

Misa – "The Devil" (PJ Harvey)

Soichiro – "Time" (Pink Floyd)

Sachiko – "Never Fall in Love Again" (Dionne Warwick)

Matsuda – "On the Bright Side" (Never Shout Never)

Mogi – "Gravity" (Perfect Circle)

Aizawa – "City of Motors" (Soul Coughing)

Ide – "Goldstar" (Starlight Mints)

Watari – "Take 5" (Dave Brubeck Quartet)

Wedy – "Standing in the Way of Control" (Gossip)

Aiber – "I'm Designer" (Queens of the Stone Age)

Namikawa/Mido – "The Royal We" (Silversun Pickups)

Ooi – "The Infernal Dance of King Kashchei" from "The Firebird" (Igor Stravinsky)

Takahashi – "I Never Knew You" (Cage)

Shimura – "Going Nowhere" (Elliott Smith)

Rester – "The Soundwaves Reversing" (Man or Astro-Man)

Kyoko – "Satellite Mind" (Metric)

Roger – "Going Back Home" (Son Seals)

Mello – "Shut Me Up" (Mindless Self Indulgence)

Matt – "The System Is Down" (Strong Bad and The Cheat)

Near – "Audience No. 2" (Autolux)

Original Characters;

Mrs. Shibuimaru – "Reckoner" (Radiohead)

Terri Collins – "Crying Lightning" (Arctic Monkeys)

John and Tetsuo – "Sabotage" (Beastie Boys)

Akuma Iwai – "Sparks It Will Rain" (Poison the Well)

Haruna Mori – "Treat Me Like Your Mother" (Dead Weather)

Daisuke Sakamoto – "A Thing for Me" (Metronomy)

Dr. Ishikawa – "Shield for Your Eyes, a Beast in the Well on Your Hand" (Melt-Banana)

Mr. & Mrs. Misora – "Prelude Canope" (Claude Debussy)

Tubbins – "99 Problems" (Jay-Z)

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References and quotations:

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these works and they are represented here for reference only.

In titles and elsewhere, I had a few references – just little bits from T.S. Eliot, Emily Dickinson, David Bowie, William Carlos Williams, Virginia Woolf, Elliott Smith, and Shakespeare, among others. Heck, one section title was a straight-up title for a Radiohead song (listed above as the theme for Mrs. Shibuimaru). Also, "Ne Cadant in Obscurum" was taken from the Offertory of the Roman Rite liturgy (Catholic; last rites) in Latin and translates to "do not let them fall into darkness." Here are some excerpts to show where the bits (in bold) I took came from:

From "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," by T.S. Eliot (_excerpt_)

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—

The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

And when I am formulated, **sprawling on a pin**,

When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,

Then how should I begin

To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?

And how should I presume?

From "Ashes to Ashes," by David Bowie

**Strung out in heaven's high**,

Hitting an all-time low.

From "Time and Eternity, Part Four," by Emily Dickinson

No rack can torture me,

My soul's at liberty.

Behind this mortal bone

**There knits a bolder one**.

From "Asphodel, That Greeny Flower," by William Carlos Williams

What do I remember  
that was shaped  
as this thing is shaped?  
while our eyes fill  
with tears.  
Of love, abiding love  
it will be telling  
though **too weak a wash of crimson**  
colors it  
to make it wholly credible.  
There is something  
something urgent  
I have to say to you  
and you alone  
but it must wait  
while I drink in  
the joy of your approach,  
perhaps for the last time.

From _An Unwritten Novel_, by Virginia Woolf

"All she did was to take her glove and rub hard at a spot on the window-pane. She rubbed as if she would rub something out for ever—some stain, **some indelible contamination**. Indeed, the spot remained for all her rubbing, and back she sank with the shudder and the clutch of the arm I had come to expect."

From "A Passing Feeling," by Elliott Smith

Still I send all the time  
My request for relief  
Down the dead power line,  
Though I'm beyond belief  
In the help I require  
Just to exist at all;  
Took a **long time to stand**,  
Took an hour to fall.

From _A Midsummer-Night's Dream_, Puck's final words, by William Shakespeare

If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumber'd here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme

No more **yielding but a dream**,

Gentles, do not reprehend;

If you pardon, we will mend.

And, if I'm an honest Puck,

If we have unearned luck,

Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call:

So, goodnight unto you all

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.

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Many, many thanks to:

Everyone who read this, even a part of it, whether they reviewed or not – thanks for spending some time with me. A special thanks to my reviewers;

The Fuzy Llama (my first reviewer!); Sashocirrione (one of my most consistent repeat reviewers, giving me lots of detailed feedback and encouragement, and a generous promoter of my work, which I will always remember and appreciate); Sonar (another of my most consistent repeat reviewers, and my favorite Ide fangirl!); methegirl (always good with a quick word of encouragement); Quiet (glad you were willing to contradict your name!); Shella (your responses and enthusiasm were shiny too, and OMG, thank you for the artwork!); Loaym (your compliments humbled me, and made me want to do better); Lichan44 (enthusiastic and sweet, and a helpful Russian cussword provider); EvanescentJasmine (an attentive reader willing to give encouragement _and_ helpful advice); rosethourne (glad I could make you giggle!); ImperialJedi (the first to review my final chapter, and always so encouraging); creepingshadow (constructive criticism ftw!).

I really appreciated each of you taking the time to review. The feedback helped me stay on track and want to keep posting. It had been awhile since I'd written anything in prose, so I wasn't even sure I could pull it off.

ADDITION; Shella did a great pencil sketch of Llyw-eilun! You can view it at her deviantART gallery page. I will now attempt to include the u r l by including spaces in it that you will have to remove to access it, so here goes – http:/ shella. deviantart. com/ art/ Llyw-eilun- 143977586. (I hope that worked!) I am honored and grateful, so thank you very much, Shella!

Considering the ways in which my fic turned out to be potential fangirl kryptonite (few pairings and none between main characters, a running poop gag, more drama than romance or comedy, certain character deaths), I have been quite pleasantly surprised by the positive responses to it. Thank you all again.

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Answers to reader questions and final thoughts:

No one asked me any questions initially, which is fine. Then Shella asked: "Did you mean to imply that Ryuk killed Soichiro? He seemed resolute in containing his despair/guilt/horror from Sachiko and Sayu, and then... Or am I imagining things?" The answer: Yes! Ryuk totally got Soichiro. And no, you aren't imagining things. ^_^ Soichiro had decided to face life, despite his anguish, and though I left it implied, Ryuk was like "Meh, fuck that" and made him commit suicide. At least Ryuk put more thought into it than what he did to Misa. Ryuk got cheated out of Light's lifespan, and out of more "entertainment," so I figured he'd be bitter. As it is, I reigned him in because I didn't want to lose _everyone_. I'll miss writing Soichiro – his struggle had an uncomfortable poignancy.

The following will be some of my rambling thoughts.

Part of the reason I did a Death Note fanfic was due to my frustration with the story in canon. I really liked the characters (well, most of them) and the premise, but it seemed like the plot was given pre-eminence over everything, even when it had characters contradicting themselves. Sad of me, I suppose, to behold a gem and fixate on its flaw, but there it is.

I guess I could have named the blonde nurse at St. Luke's "Terri MacGuffin" (or Terri Red-Herring, depending on your perspective) rather than Terri Collins, considering her role. (Though perhaps a Ms. MacGuffin may be better off hooking up with Basil Exposition in someone's Austin Powers fanfic.)

My story had several tangents and many characters – I couldn't resist filling in some things I felt were missing, things that, while not always critical to the plot, were nonetheless important to me in fleshing out the world and the people in it. I tried not to go too far afield with that, since it would have brought the story to a grinding halt, but context is key in giving characters opportunities to take action. Some of the tangential sections did link directly back to the plot, as intended. The first section about Mrs. Shibuimaru would have seemed pretty extraneous if you hadn't guessed what was happening there, but that bit was essential to the larger goal I set for myself after my first goal of getting L and Ryuk to talk was met: I wanted L to win.

Having L win may have been my goal, but I knew I wouldn't be satisfied if he won and yet didn't behave like himself – that would have been a hollow victory. My original hope for the ending had been that L would solve the case and survive, but after developing the characters and letting the plot unfold as a consequence of their actions (particularly the part where Ryuk ditched L, grr), it became clear that I wouldn't be able to do both without either going back and completely altering the story or making some of the characters quite OOC (Rem especially). At that point, this fanfic became less about wish-fulfillment for me and more about doing the characters justice. Had I had an actual conversation with L about the path he wanted to take, it might have gone like this:

"The scenario has changed. What's going to happen . . . isn't what I thought would happen."

"Mm. I could say that about my entire experience on this case, actually."

"Well OK, that's a fair point, but . . . I have to make a choice now."

"Then choose."

"I want you to choose."

"Really. Are you hoping to escape responsibility by having me make the decision for you? Choosing to let me choose is still a choice – and you are the author, after all."

"Writer. Authors are published. And no, it's completely my responsibility. I just want to make sure that I'm doing the right thing for you. I want you to participate in your own destiny."

"You mean you want me to participate in my own demise?"

"No! Geez – glass half-empty, huh? _I need to know what you want_."

"You already know that. You are seeking reassurance."

"I . . . I guess I am. And let's be honest – you've been 'participating in your own demise' since you first exposed yourself to Light."

". . ."

". . . That came out wrong."

"Indeed."

"You know, you could just kill Light. You already know he's Kira, and the proof will be forthcoming in just under two weeks."

"Does that sound like something I would actually do?"

"Well, no . . ."

"Then why suggest it?"

"Because I want you to live _and_ I want you to win!"

"I expect that this story would have to be altered considerably for that to be a likely scenario."

"So you want me to change –"

"No. You asked for my input, so please hear me out. I have been knowingly risking my life to solve this case for quite some time, as you so . . . indelicately pointed out. I understand the stakes, and I understand the debt I have to those who have fallen in service to my goals and those who might fall if I do not act. Even if my death were a certainty, I would still pursue this. Kira must be stopped – not merely killed. Solving the case is of paramount importance, I cannot say that enough. To _prove_ that Light is Kira will show the others what he has become, and therefore what any of us _could_ become after making so many terrible choices. Our choices shape us. Even if 'the others' includes only a handful of people rather than the entire world, their knowledge, their perspective, will cause them to act in such a way as to prevent a recurrence. There cannot be another Kira. The power Kira wields would spread like a cancer throughout the populace – has already begun to do so, in fact. Cutting out the tumor is insufficient. More expansive treatment is necessary. As much influence as I might have, it isn't enough on its own."

"You want to rely on the Task Force for this?"

"They are a part of it, as are my other colleagues and those at Wammy House. They will, in turn, influence others. No one lives forever, but Kira's pernicious influence could extend beyond Light's death, and it must be wiped out if those who remain are to thrive."

"I know that, but –"

"Let me finish. You asked me to make a choice. My point is that there is no choice. I must solve this case, and I must stop Kira. That doesn't make my death certain, but it does make it likely, considering what has transpired so far. As much as I would prefer to live, my survival is secondary. You know this – you've known this from the start. To ask me to 'choose' is to mock me and everything that is of value to me. I cannot speak for the motivations of others, but I know my own. Do not take that from me. Let me finish this – you owe me the right to solve this and reach my own conclusion."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just hate to lose you."

"You're the writer. You'll find some way of handling that." L smiles. "And we'll always have flashbacks."

Dammit, L.

Flashbacks there may be, and alternate ideas as well. Soon.


End file.
